


ten thousand words (on hiatus)

by antoniohiggins



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: (for now) - Freeform, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Disabled Character, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Muteness, One-Sided Attraction, Pining, Slow Build, Slow Burn, i'm doin a mute!race au y'all, ill add more tags later idk, spot has a gf for a little while, the world may never know, why do i love race-centric angst so much?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-07-07 01:28:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 23,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15898128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antoniohiggins/pseuds/antoniohiggins
Summary: mute!race au(DISCLAIMER: i am not mute, nor have i ever met anyone who is such, but i thought this concept would be good practice for me since i rely a lot on standard dialogue and i really wanted to try something unconventional. i did not research any actual medical practices regarding the medical reasoning for this situation, but i personally think it's at least mostly reasonable. if you have any problems with my characterization regarding any of the issues presented here, feel free to let me know either in the comments or on tumblr and i will rewrite accordingly. also, the graphic depictions of violence warning really only applies to the first and second chapter so far)~basically a self-indulgent college au with a twist;)





	1. loss for words

**Author's Note:**

> the story title is from the song 'ten thousand words' by the avett brothers and the chapter title is from the song ' loss for words' by landon mcnamara
> 
> read the disclaimer if you have any questions on the nature of my experience with this topic, and enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> also, italics are the ASL, even though it's specified almost every time

Race hated school. Or at least, he hated _being_ at school. He was actually a really good student, one of the best in his district, but there wasn’t a single thing he hated more than being at school. In fact, he almost didn’t go to college because he wasn’t sure he could handle another four years of teachers yelling at him to ‘stop pretending and speak up already’.

You see, he hadn’t spoken since he was thirteen years old. When his father was innocently driving him and his little sister to the movies one Saturday night, a driver without his lights on t-boned the family as they tried to turn into the parking lot.

His father was killed on impact, his daughters left screaming for help from the backseat. Race was nearly thrown out the open passenger seat window. His head hung limply out the side of the window at an unnatural angle. The paramedics were nearly certain his neck had snapped from the force, but as he regained consciousness, he tried reaching for his sisters behind him and they rushed him to the emergency room. He was only thirteen at the time, his sisters just nine and seven with a three-year-old little brother at home in bed with his mother, both completely oblivious as to what had just happened to their family.

His father would never be able to surprise his kids with the bonus he’d been given from his job that he had used to book the family a holiday vacation. His sisters would have matching scars across their chests and stomachs from how tightly their seatbelts had held them to their seats and one had broken her wrist trying to shield her little sister from the shattering glass of the left side window. And Race? His windpipe was so bruised he was on a ventilator for weeks. They tried speech therapy, they friend three different surgeries, and just about anything under the sun, but he never spoke again.

He spent the rest of that summer learning sign language. His mother was an elementary school teacher and had even agreed to learn with him just in case she ever had a deaf or hard of hearing student. His oldest sister learned the basics online and could translate most of what she needed, but it was never the same.

For years after they treated him like he was a fragile piece of glass that could break if someone so much as looked at him the wrong way. His mother even homeschooled him for his last year of middle school just out of her own fear of how his classmates and teachers would react.

He hated his life. People would try to encourage him to stay positive, that there were still so many things to be happy about, but for him it was the worst thing he could possibly imagine. He was a singer, through and through. His dad was his school choir instructor and after that’s accident, the program fell apart. His mother never understood how hard it was to be told his dream wasn’t possible anymore. For a kid barely a teenager to be told he had to give up his passion in life was like clipping his wings mid-flight. He was heartbroken.

He had so much free time he turned to anything he could possibly think of to fill the gaping hole in his life. He learned about a dozen instruments, he tried writing songs, and even tried vocal coaching other kids, but he was miserable.

He started high school and no teacher would give him the time of day, let alone any of the students. To them, if you didn’t answer questions in class, that meant you were dumb and nobody wanted to be friends with the kid who always had bags under his eyes and never said a word to anybody.

In fact, he made it through high school with a nearly perfect GPA and not a single person noticed. He walked across the stage at graduation and all of his classmates just looked around in confusion when his name was called.

Still, he thought it would be fine once he got to college. He planned on taking as many online courses as the school allowed and coasting at the back of the class through any that weren’t offered online. However, he was forced to room on campus by the school for at least one year, so he desperately requested a single room and for once in his life, something finally went his way. He still had to explain his situation to his RA, but other than that he couldn’t be happier. He had one class that wasn’t offered online the first semester and he felt more comfortable than he had in years. The week before classes started was the biggest relief of his life. He could walk around campus with headphones in and nobody would bother him, he could wave to his neighbors down the hall and none of them would strike up a conversation, and he was able to get so ahead in all of his online classes that he was able to get a job on campus restocking shelves at the campus library. It was easy, he would check in at the beginning and end of his shift and no one would try to talk to him the entire time.

You see, he had a voice text app on his phone that he used when he had to initiate conversations such as his job interview, when he checked into work everyday, or when he went to the student center to pick up his textbooks. It worked just fine when he had time to type up exactly what he needed to say, but when he would get bumped by someone in the hallway or get asked to help someone at work, people weren’t exactly cooperative when he couldn’t apologize or explain why he just seemingly ignored what they had just said to type something into his phone.

So when classes officially started, he really wasn’t looking forward to being the asshole who ignored people’s questions and didn’t speak to anyone again.

In fact, he even showed up to the first day of his only in-classroom course in a hoodie and sweatpants, his glasses on, and earbuds in, just hoping nobody would come near him. He took a seat near the back of the lecture hall and took out his computer, setting up a new document to take notes. He kept his earbuds in with no music playing, hoping that would make the students around him believe he wasn’t paying attention and therefore, not ask him any questions, which worked perfectly fine until he got up to leave.

The class had gone so well with his plan and there were dozens of other kids just like him who hadn’t asked or answered any questions without any judgment that he had honestly forgotten that he might need to talk to people on the way out. As he collected his things and stood up, he bumped into the kid behind him, both of them dropping their things on the ground. Race scrambled to get out his phone and type out an apology, but he clicked it once and it was dead. His heart sank as he tossed it into his bag and tried to figure out some sort of fake signs so the guy would understand his apology.

He gulped as the guy stood up, shorter then Race by a few inches, but visibly much stronger and with a face that looked like it held a resting grimace. He hoped it wasn’t just because of their encounter. Still, as he looked Race in the eyes, his expression softened and the blond fumbled with his hands for a second before just signing a regular apology.

He smiled nervously, hoping this guy wasn’t about to punch him or something, but what happened next was _definitely_ not what he expected.

He signed back.


	2. more than words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a little more backstory for race, plus he and spot get to see each other again in a very unexpected way;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you are uncomfortable reading about near-death experiences and asphyxia, you can either skip this chapter (it won't mess up the storyline much until a while later) or you can skip between the lines I added until after the scene is done
> 
> **also just an update, all italics are sign language and regular quotes are all audibly spoken**

To say that was one of the biggest reliefs of Race’s entire life was an understatement. This guy looked like he could’ve knocked him out cold with the flick of his fingers, but he simply smiled and tucked his phone and water bottle into his bag, freeing his hands. 

“ _ No problem _ ,” he signed nonchalantly, Race’s jaw dropping before breaking into the widest smile. The guy smirked as people began to slowly file out through the doors. 

The two both made it out of the room and into the hallway and as they parted ways, Race signed a simple, “ _ See you on Wednesday _ .”

And the boy pretended to tip his cap as if he wasn’t just wearing a beanie. Both just disappeared amongst the crowd and Race was left with the first person he’d ever met at school who even  _ tried _ to respond when he signed. And this guy actually _ knew  _ ASL. 

Race let himself be happy for once as he went back to his dorm, tossing on a pair of headphones and dancing around his room as if every song he knew was about this angel boy he met. 

The next morning he only had online classes to worry about which, for the first time in his life, he was disappointed about. He almost couldn’t admit it to himself as he sat around his room on his laptop completely alone with nothing but the smiley faces he drew on his graphing calculator to keep him company.

* * *

 

As the music played through his headphones, he found himself thinking of all those years of physical therapy back in high school. He remembered not even being able to laugh for nearly a year. Not that he had much to laugh about, but it made his mother upset. She always used to gush over his laugh. However, he was more heartbroken that he slowly discovered that while he knew he’d never be able to sing, he couldn’t even hum along. His vocal cords were so badly damaged that any type of tension he put on them caused them to swell and potentially block his airways, sending him into a fit of choking and gasping, almost like he was drowning. 

He remembered the first time it happened, he was fifteen, his first year of public school after the accident and his freshman year of high school was the rude awakening he had been tortured with. There were choir auditions the second week of school and he had broken down in tears as soon as he got home. He tried so hard to will himself to be able to say something, to make some sort of noise at all, but all he got was pain. He tried to scream, he tried anything he could, but he was left a blubbering mess on the floor, clutching his throat like he would rather rip it out than have it uselessly trapping him in silence. 

That night he almost died. He was in intensive care for a week afterwards and sent back to physical therapy, this time with a grief counselor to go with it. He felt pathetic going to a therapist who trained to help people through the losses of their loved ones and such only to show up as some kid who was just tired of living in complete silence. 

But it was worse for his mother. She had already lost her husband, almost lost two of her daughters, and came impossible miracles away from losing her oldest son. The last thing she wanted was for him to come stumbling into her room in the middle of the night seizing and convulsing as his broken body desperately struggled for breath. She had never quite forgiven him for making her hold him in her arms and watch his eyes roll back into his head as she pleaded on the phone for an ambulance. 

For her son’s sake, she had never told him how his heart stopped that night. How horrifically she screamed as she felt for his pulse and found nothing beneath her fingers. She might not have been there on The Worst Night, but she felt the aftershock in every single wave and holding her baby boy in her arms as she watched him stop breathing was the worst thing a mother could possibly experience. 

So many things had held him back from where he was and still, the progress he had made was almost laughable. Ironic, but through the years of physical and speech therapy, he was able to laugh again, and even hum after a few secret sessions he paid for out of pocket after his terrified mother pleaded for him to never try anything he did that night again. 

But he was happier than he’d been since he lost everything. Now, he could dance around his dorm room humming along to the music he used to love to sing along to with his dad so many years ago.

* * *

 

No one looking at him would ever peg him as a classic rock fan, but his dad played him all the iconic bands of the eighties and he created himself a musical alter ego. Sure, the last time he had sung was before he had even hit puberty, but he and his twelve-year-old tenor voice still sang the  _ shit _ out of The Rolling Stones. His air guitar, though, had gotten a bit rusty over the years. 

So when he hummed along to everything from the lyrics to the wailing instrumentals, he kept a straight face, telling himself he didn’t have to worry about waking up dizzy, minutes away from likely dying in his sleep. He let the drum beats be his heartbeat reminder. 

_ You’re okay.  _

_ You’re alive.  _

_ You’re breathing and that’s better than nothing. _

And considering he had been going back and forth between believing breathing was a blessing or a curse for years, he could definitively say he liked where he was in life and that was definitely new.

But then someone knocked on his door and within the next ten seconds, he immediately reverted back to his ‘I hate other people’ mindset. He had his phone in his pocket, definitively charged just in case, and he had even invested in a mini whiteboard that he kept by the door in case he needed it. 

He swung open the door and physically felt his heart skip a beat in his chest. 

Hot guy from class. 

Wait,  _ hot _ ? Okay, maybe he hadn’t noticed it before when he was worried he was going to get beat up, but this guy was  _ definitely _ attractive. And drunk at the moment. And had somehow found his dorm despite not even knowing his name. Awesome. 

He was leaning against the doorframe, a bottle in his left and his shirt unbuttoned down to his sternum. Race figured he had enough time to type up something to say. 

“Hello?” The phone’s automated voice spoke up and he waited for Drunk Hot Guy to realize he had opened the door. He looked up after a few seconds and Race could finally see the boy’s face. 

One of his eyes was green and the other a dark brown. Huh. He decided his blue eyes were no longer his best feature compared to this guy’s. 

“Do you need something?” The automated voice continued and Race remembered why he hated using the goddamn thing. Everything sounded so passive aggressive without any emotion, but there wasn’t much he could do. 

But drunk angel groaned, and ran his hands over his face. 

“Nah, ‘s my fault. Ya’ ain’t Jack,” he slurred and began to walk away from the door. Race quickly typed out a response and grabbed the boy’s wrist to stop him from falling over.

“Who’s Jack? I can help you find him if you’d like,” Race winced at the way his phone read the choice of words, but the guy actually nodded. 

“He’s my lil’ brotha’,” the guy mumbled as Race closed his door behind himself and grabbed the boy by his upper arm. “Thought ya’ room was his, but I guess not.”

Race huffed a quick chuckle as he scanned the nameplates on each of the doors down the hall. 

“You look familiar,” he grumbled to himself as Race shifted his grip to hold one of the guy’s arms around his shoulders. 

He used his one free hand to sign the letters of their class as they kept walking. 

“Advanc’d ‘ngineer-fuck,” he cursed himself out as the realization hit him. “Fuck you’re-you’re the deaf one goddammit. I gotta’ repeat all a’ that now don’t I?”

Race snorted at his absolutely ridiculous drunken logic, but typed out a response nonetheless. 

“I’m not deaf actually,” it started. “I just can’t talk. I can hear you just fine, dumbass.”

He tossed in that little jab at the end as punishment for making him leave his room at eleven at night on a Tuesday to go wander the halls looking for some kid he didn’t know. 

“Huh,” the guy huffed as he used the hallway wall to gain better balance. “Seems fun.”

Race nearly laughed out loud at that. Yeah, tons of fun. 

“Fun is not the word I’d use to describe being mute,” his phone recited back and the guy groaned. 

“Not...not  _ that _ part, the voice...thingy,” he clarified, gesturing weirdly at Race's phone with his hands to only further emphasize his confusion. “Like you could have any voice ya’ want. That’s cool.”

Race smirked, stopping as he read the name ‘Jack Kelly’ written on a door. 

“Thanks. Little kids tend to think I’m a robot because of it,” Race typed up, hoping the guy would enjoy that. 

“I’m glad you’s not a robot,” he mumbled, squinting as he read the sign on the door. “Aww shit, that’s Jack.”

Race reluctantly let go and let the guy support himself on the wall, but he left his hands free to sign. 

“ _ Isn’t that the whole reason you’re here _ ?”

He paused for a second as his drunken brain tried to comprehend the signs.

“Yeah but that was b’fore I got some good company,” he spoke, a frown clear on his face. 

Race couldn’t stop the blush that formed on his cheeks despite how much he willed it to. 

“ _ Try this again when you’re sober and we’ll see. I’m not even going to ask why you’re drunk on a Tuesday night, let alone on the second day of school, _ ” he sassed back and the other nodded. 

The guy nodded and startled Race as he pounded on the door. Race quickly typed up an introduction and moments later the door swung open revealing a guy about the same height as Race with shaggy brown hair with visible globs of paint in it. 

“Hi. Your drunk brother thought my room was yours, so make sure he doesn’t try to find his way home like this. I’m down the hall in 312 if you need anything,” the phone spoke and Jack looked back and forth between the phone, Race, and his brother. 

Jack was silent for a moment before he turned to his brother. 

“Dude, what the hell?” He grumbled at the boy, only to be completely ignored as the other just kept staring at Race. 

“I’ll see you ‘round blondie,” he signed before slipping past his brother into the room and Race was left out in the hall with a smile on his face and a heart beating in double-time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks so much for reading! after this i'm easing off the backstory a little bit to get some more exposition, but don't forget what happened in this chapter, it'll be important later!!
> 
> don't forget to leave a comment and kudos, it's what keeps me motivated to finish a multi-chapter fic for the first time lmao and check me out on tumblr @tony-higgins for updates and more writing
> 
> xxx <3


	3. unspoken words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> race has...a bit of a disappointing morning, but it's ok, he goes on a ~totally platonic~ lunch date with spot

He actually looked forward to seeing the guy in class the next day for a few reasons. One, he was really hot and frankly just nice to look at. Two, he really needed to know what the hell happened the night before or else he was going to drive himself insane trying to guess what it was. And three, he hadn’t had someone to actually talk to besides his family since his therapists and he had to admit, it was really nice.

So he put a bit more effort into his outfit the next day. Joggers with a turtleneck and a denim jacket thrown overtop, paired with a ratty old pair of Chucks.

Thankfully, when he returned to the place he sat on Monday, the guy was already there. And now in the seat right next to his.

He sat down shyly, smiling as he slid in beside the boy. The other looked up from his notes, bags very prominent under his eyes, but he smiled back nonetheless.

“ _Morning_ ,” he signed, reaching beside him to grab one of two coffee cups, passing it over to Race. “For last night. Thanks for not leaving me in the middle of the hallway.” As he spoke, his cheeks went just the tiniest bit red and he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I hope you drink coffee, I just got two cups black, but I grabbed sugar and creamer just in case you wanted it, or-“

Race just smirked, taking a sip of the straight black coffee, stopping the other boy’s rambling. He looked surprised for a second, but it quickly dissolved as he popped off the top of his own cup to show he had left his plain as well.

“Truly a man after my own heart,” he teased, not knowing just how right he was. Still, Race just chuckled and began to take out his own class materials. “So. I realize I never got your name.”

Race smirked, slightly relieved that he could stop guessing in his head what the boy’s name would be.

“ _Antonio. You can call me Tony, though. Or Race. Your choice_ ,” he signed.

“Sean. My brother calls me Spot though, so that’s fair game if you like it,” Spot laughed, pulling off the hood of his sweatshirt as he ran his hand through his hair a few times.

Race grabbed his phone, swiping it open as he reached his contacts, creating a new one and handing it over to Spot to add his phone number. The latter smiled as he saw it and quickly added his number, sending himself a text so he could save the other’s as well.

“I take it you’re not doing this so I can call you, right?” Spot joked, catching himself immediately. “Oh shit wait, I’m such a dick. That was so rude, fuck, I’m so sorry.”

But Race was laughing.

_“Don’t be,”_ he signed quickly. _“It’s been like eight years since anybody talked about my voice with anything other than pity. Trust me, it’s refreshing.”_

Spot still seemed unsure, but Race was smiling and he figured he was okay.

“In that case, I’m sure Morse code isn’t too hard to learn if you want to give it a chance,” he smirked, nudging the boy beside him with his elbow.

As the class began, the two boys stayed in their own little bubble. Sure, they both took notes on the lecture and whatnot, but they wouldn’t stop passing a sheet of paper between them, playing hangman and tic-tac-toe over and over again to pass the time in their two-and-a-half-hour class.

Race pulled out his small whiteboard, grabbing a marker and scribbling out a message.

_What happened last night?_

Spot chuckled dryly, dragging a hand down his face as he picked up the marker and wrote his own response.

_My GF is a sorority head. She threw a party for the new pledges._

And Race felt his heart shatter into pieces. Right. He was hot, smart, super sweet. Of course he had a girlfriend. He should’ve known.

_Girlfriend?_

He didn’t miss the way Spot’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

_Her name’s Isabella. I’ll introduce you two sometime._

And Race pretended that didn’t feel like a knife right through his chest. The first time he’d let himself like someone in years and he gets his heart broken before anything even happens.

He let himself focus back to his notes, trying not to make it look like he was about to cry over some guy he’d just met.

The class passed fairly quickly after that, considering they’d already spent about two hours dicking around with the paper games and whiteboard. Still, he didn’t want to just leave Spot. He was the first real friend he’d made since middle school and he wasn’t just going to let him get away that easily.

Just as the class was winding down to an end, he heard Spot slide a tiny folded scrap of paper across the desk. Race smiled as he picked it up, unfolding it carefully.

_Iz has cheer practice, wanna grab lunch?_

And he shrugged and nodded as if he wasn’t about to start bouncing off the walls with excitement.

They joined the mob of students filing out of the lecture hall doors and if Race let his heart jump into his chest when Spot grabbed his hand to make sure they didn’t get separated in the crowd, then nobody needed to know. As they made it outside, they separated and Race went back to his dejected heartbroken-ness over his newly ruined crush, but they stayed side by side as Spot led the way to his favorite deli a few blocks from campus.

Having a conversation while they walked was inconvenient, but they made it work in a way. Spot did most of the talking and Race signed what he could, both laughing as he held his arms so far outstretched that the rest of the people on the streets looked somewhat concerned about what they were doing.

Still, as they arrived at the shop, Spot held open the door and Race stepped inside.

“We’ll find a better way to do that eventually,” Spot chuckled as they both stepped up to the counter, Race, grinning at the possibility of a ‘next time’.

Spot greeted the shop owner like an old friend and easily translated as Race signed his order. Despite Race beating Spot to the register, the shorter boy simply fished out a wad of cash and tossed it to the man behind the counter, who caught it effortlessly.

Race looked back behind him and scoffed, not a hint of actual frustration, but Spot reached up and bounced the other’s curls and collected their food.

Race followed him to a small table for two up against the storefront window. They ate for a few minutes in silence, partly because since Spot was the only one doing the talking before, with food in his mouth there wasn’t much room for conversation. Still, Race found a way.

“ _You can ask, you know_ ,” he signed, trying to keep a fairly uplifting expression on his face. He didn’t want to seem accusatory or anything, but he found he usually had the best results getting anyone who wasn’t planning on dealing with him for long out of the picture as quickly as possible.

Spot smiled absentmindedly, swirling the straw in his drink.

“About what?” He asked, already knowing the answer. Race gave a tight-lipped smile.

“ _I know you’re thinking it. You can ask about my voice, I’m used to it_ ,” Race signed, barely raising his hands above the table before dropping them back into his lap.

“Dude,” he spoke softly, his gaze and tone only slightly contradicting the entirely platonic name. “It doesn’t bother me at all. If you want to tell me, you can tell me, but I don’t need to know. It’s your story to tell, Ant.”

Yeah, having friends was  _definitely_ something he could get used to. 


	4. motor-mouthed words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lunch date feat. my favorite modern!sprace trope: motorcycle rides;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also, i'm changing isabella's name to isabel lol i just didn't like it
> 
> and sorry, this is kinda a filler chapter, but things are going to get spicy soon lol

“So you’re a freshman, right?” Spot asked, to which Race nodded, taking a bite out of his sandwich. “And you’re in  _ advanced _ engineering? Jesus fuck, are you some kinda’ prodigy or something? I’m a junior and that class is already kicking my ass.”

Race chuckled, heat rising to his cheeks as he signed back to assure Spot that he was far from a prodigy, just a huge nerd.

_ “No joke, I spent most of high school building robots alone in my basement instead of going to parties. I even used to read through the code of my family’s home security system just for fun,”  _ Race explained, and he beamed when Spot’s face lit up with laughter. 

“God, high school you sounds like a buzzkill,” Spot joked, a lilt in his voice that told Race he hardly meant a word of it.

_ “Yeah, I wasn’t planning on any of that changing in college, but here we are.” _

Spot had an almost unreadable expression on his face when Race said that. Like he was almost remorseful, yet relieved

“Trust me, I’m pretty sure we would’ve found a way to meet one way or another,” Spot countered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. For just a moment Race let himself forget that Spot had a girlfriend. Then, speak of the devil, his phone rang. 

As it buzzed, the whole table rattled, startling them both. Sill, Race shrugged it off and gestured to Spot that he didn’t mind if he answered it. He cursed under his breath, mouthing a quick ‘sorry’ to Race as he answered. 

“Hey babe,” he started, casually popping a chip into his mouth. And just like that, Race was brought back to the hopeless pining that he had already fallen way too deep into. Fuck him and his lonely ass that just falls hard for the first guy that shows him even the slightest bit of kindness. Still, he watched Spot’s expression shift into frustration as he ran a hand through his hair, leaning his elbow on the table. “No, I can’t just- What? Babe, that’s so- Jesus christ Iz, I’m done with helping with your pledges. This hazing-initiation bullshit is so messed up! I don’t-”

He paused to take a breath as Race tried to make it seem like he wasn’t stressfully listening in on the other’s conversation. 

“Iz, just ‘cause you have  _ virgin  _ pledges doesn’t mean-fuck it. Do what you want and deal with however that works out for you. I’m trying to have a nice lunch, so just know I’m done helping you out with your fucking ‘pledge games’,” Spot groaned as he hung up, dumping his phone into his lap and he leaned his head into his hands. Race didn’t know ‘Iz’ or whatever her name was, but if she was doing what it really sounded like she was doing, he definitely didn’t want to meet her anytime soon.

So he tapped Spot’s arm after a few seconds, quickly signing to ask if he was okay. Spot huffed a quick smirk, sitting upright again and fixing his messed up hair. 

“Yeah, yeah...it’s fine, she just,” he paused, seemingly searching for the right words. “She just gets really stressed during pledge season. She was just made president of Sigma Phi Alpha, which is kinda’ a big deal to her since her older sister and her mom and like a dozen other girls in her family all held the same position here, but she’s taking it too far. They’re making her come up with all these hazing things for the new girls, but I feel like she’s gonna’ get kicked out if they find out she’s pulling this shit, ya’ know?”

Race nodded as if he had any idea what was going on. 

“Anyway, she’s apparently got a couple new pledges that are still virgins and,” he chuckled humorlessly as if he couldn’t even believe it. “For some fucking batshit crazy reason, they all agreed that making them hook with guys from the frat house down the street was a good idea.”

Race decided he now had a legitimate reason not to like this girl. At least his moral compass was back to normal once he was done hating her guts just for dating a guy he liked, despite the fact that he was straight and, therefore, Race wouldn’t have a chance even if she wasn’t dating him.

_ “Wanna’ stop her?” _ Race signed, a suggestive smirk toying with his lips as Spot raised an eyebrow. 

“Do continue,” he mused, leaning forward onto his elbows as he rested his chin in his hands. Race explained his plan, his hands moving so fast that he didn’t really think about the fact that Spot might not even be able to read fast enough to understand, but within the next few minutes, they were off. 

Sure, it was probably only an hour or so past noon, but they had no clue what Isabella was up to, so they figured it would be better to be early than late. 

They headed back to campus, turning to the nearest student parking garage as Spot nudged Race’s side. 

“Hey,” he started, a proud smile on his face that made Race weak at the knees. “Wanna’ take my pride and joy out for a ride?”

Race laughed, shrugging, but he grinned as Spot grabbed his hand, leading the other towards the garage. The second they entered, Spot let go, not a surprise, but still slightly disappointing. However, Spot quickly ran behind Race and put his hands over the other’s eyes. Race chuckled nervously at the contact, blush encircling his cheeks, but he let himself trust Spot enough to guide him. 

Sure, he could’ve been a serial killer the whole time and maybe he was finally taking his chance to lure Race into his sketchy white van knowing he couldn’t call out for help, but still. The vibe just wasn’t there. 

But still, if he was a serial killer about to kidnap Race and take him to his secret evil lair, Race  _ definitely _ wouldn’t have a problem with Stockholm Syndrome. They walked far enough that Race could assume they were heading towards the back of the garage. That could only mean one thing. 

He could feel himself grinning even before Spot uncovered his eyes, but once he did, he was beaming. A beautiful, metallic burgundy Harley Davidson Sportster. Race was absolutely in love. There was a bag o the back with what looked like a spare helmet, and Spot’s was hooked by the strap and hanging from the handlebars. Spot clapped him on the shoulder, heading over to the side of the bike. 

_ “This is yours?”  _ Race asked incredulously, his hands shaking with excitement.

“That’s my baby,” he chided, reaching into the bag on the back of the bike and tossing the spare helmet to Race. It caught the light as Race turned it over in his hands. He chuckled softly as he admired it, the bright glittering pink making it clear that Isabella was the primary user even more so than the giant bumper sticker across the back that read ‘that’s my boyfriend’ in all caps with an arrow pointing to where Spot would be sitting.

“ _ Isabel seems quite...flashy,” _ Race chuckled nervously as he pulled on the helmet, a blush raging down his neck as Spot helped him get seated in the right position. Thankfully the latter smiled. He could barely hide the fact that the whole of Manhattan thinking he was Spot’s boyfriend made him want to scream. 

“Yeah, no kidding,” he laughed as he turned the key into the ignition. “It’s been a while since she’s agreed to ride though. She prefers her fancy new car which, to be honest, is actually pretty sick so I don’t blame her.”

Race couldn’t imagine even the nicest of cars being any more enjoyable than this, but he shrugged it off.

Spot revved the engine and Race jumped, grabbing onto Spot’s arms to steady himself. The other chuckled lightly as he adjusted Race’s arms to wrap around his waist for a safer grip. 

Race was in heaven. Spot slowly turned down the street and, once the initial shock wore off, Race relaxed a little bit and let his head rest on the other boy’s shoulder. 

“You okay back there, blondie?” Spot teased as they slowed to a halt at a stoplight. “How ‘bout this, if you need me to slow down, tap once on my led and if you need me to stop and pull over, tap twice.”

Race nodded and gave a quick thumbs up before yelping and grabbing tightly again as Spot took off back down the street. 

God, he could definitely get used to this. He let his eyes close as the wind whipped his face. He could feel his body shifting as Spot wove through the streets, balancing on the edge of falling, but still secure as he held tightly to the other. 

It felt like flying. Like they were untouchable. The honking cars around them were nothing but background noise and Race has never found something that felt so close to singing since he lost his voice. 

As the bike eventually slowed to a halt, Race assumed they had made it to the sorority house and he opened his eyes. As much as it pained him to do so, he detached himself from the vice-like grip he had on Spot, stretching his arms before pulling off his helmet.    


“You good?” Spot turned around, facing Race with a smirk on his lips. 

“Peachy,” Race signed back, mussing up his hair to get it back to its usual bounce. 

“Well, this is it. It’s a lot, I know,” Spot continued, shutting off the bike and stuffing Race’s helmet back into the bag on the back as he hooked his own onto the handlebars. “But let’s go rescue some pledges.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks so much for reading! i hope you liked this chapter! things are a little bit slow right now, but we're getting there, i promise;) 
> 
> check me out on tumblr @tony-higgins to get updates and request other fics! as always, comments and kudos keep me motivated to write and are always greatly appreciated!!


	5. curse words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> things are delving further into the plot, i promise! plus, race meets isabel! and we get a little sneak peak into another character coming next chapter!! ;)

The house was beautiful, much nicer than any college students should realistically be able to afford, but nice nonetheless. A shiny gold sign hung on the front now with the house’s Greek characters carved out of wood and Spot wasted no time rapping his knuckles on the white painted door. The door swung open almost immediately and Spot huffed out a heavy sigh as Isabel threw herself into a hug.

“Babe, how many times do I gotta’ tell you, it isn’t safe to just swing the door open without checking first,” Spot grumbled, Isabel clearly not loving the mini-lecture.

“Yeah, yeah, if I try to be welcoming some ax murderer on my doorstep in the middle of the afternoon is gonna’ attack me,” she teased, a smile on her face as she detached from her boyfriend.

As much as Race hated seeing Spot and Isabel together, it was clear he really did care a lot about her. That was the worst part.

Even as admittedly gay as he was, Race could admit she was beautiful. He wasn’t surprised someone else knew what a catch Spot was, but it definitely didn’t help to know someone like _her_ noticed him. The further away he could stay from anyone even remotely popular, the better.

Her hair was long, almost all the way down to her hips, and a light caramel brown at the ends to contrast her dark roots. It complimented her tanned skin that, to Race’s amazement, seemed to be free of any blemishes whatsoever.

“Iz,” Spot started, stepping aside as he held his arm out to sort-of guide Race to stand beside him. “This is Tony. Tony, meet Isabel.”

Isabel smiled and Race really, _really_ wanted to hate her guts. It would’ve been so much easier, but she was actually really nice. Plus, her teeth were perfectly white and he _really_ wanted to ask what toothpaste she used. In all honesty, nothing about her seemed ‘evil demon’-like at all.

Except, that is, for the whole reason why they were even there at all.

“Hi! It’s so nice to meet you,” she chided sweetly, surprising Race as she pulled him into a quick hug as well. They pulled apart and Race looked to Spot quickly before signing.

 _“Nice to meet you too,”_ he signed, Spot translating almost immediately after as her expression shifted. She didn’t look _offended_ per-say, but compared to the way Spot first reacted as if Race was just a normal person with nothing abnormal about him, she looked at him like he had the plague. SHe waved awkwardly, flashing Spot an uncomfortable look before turning back to Race.

“Sean, you _know_ I don’t know sign,” she hissed through her teeth as if she was trying to pretend she wasn’t talking.

Race snorted, glancing at Spot who seemed to share in his amusement.

“He’s not deaf, Iz,” Spot mused, stepping up beside the girl and sliding an arm around her waist. Race felt his mouth go dry. Still, Isabel’s face went bright red, which was admittedly hilarious to both boys.

 _“You don’t have to talk to me any differently,”_ he started signing, Spot quickly translating once he finished. _“Just talk like you normally would and Spot can translate what I say.”_

Isabel smiled nervously and nodded, cautiously sticking out her hand as Race shook it. “Well,” she spoke, clearly eager to end the awkward encounter. “It _is_ nice to meet you.”

Race just smirked, nodded, and moved just a little closer to Spot.

“Babe, I thought you said you didn’t want to come?” Isabel chirped, her perfectly-groomed brows furrowing. “Like...I’m not _complaining_ , but I thought you didn’t...like this.”

Spot sighed, painting his pace with a look of casual contempt.

“Yeah, well,” he stated, looking at Race instead. “We won’t be here long, we were just riding around and figured we’d stop by.”

Isabel smiled and stepped back inside the house, leading both boys in behind her. Race stayed close to Spot as they followed Isabel through the immaculate foyer into the living room.

“Make yourselves at home. I’ll go tell the girls you stopped by, Sean,” Isabel waved before jogging up the large staircase.

Almost the moment she was gone, Spot turned to Race and started apologizing profusely.

“Fuck, Tony, I’m so sorry. I knew she wouldn’t react that well, but I hoped she’d at least be halfway decent, but-”

Race tried to stop him by signing the words, “It’s okay,” but Spot grabbed his hands before he could finish. Race felt his heart leap into his throat as he stared at Spot’s hands wrapped around his own. He let go just as quickly as he started, but Race could practically feel his heart, well, _racing_.

“No, I should’a told her she needed to be civil. She’s a good person, I swear, but she seriously doesn’t know how to behave when people are even a little bit different. Dude, I’m really, really sorry.”

He could tell Spot felt legitimately guilty, which was absolute bullshit in Race’s opinion, considering Spot was very likely the nicest person he had ever met. He could deal with Isabel if he still had Spot.

 _“Seriously, Spot. It’s totally fine. She’s no different than most of the people I’ve met throughout my whole life,”_ Race signed quickly, hoping to get his say out before Spot took any more blame.

Spot smiled and Race could see a little bit of sadness behind his eyes. If he said he didn’t notice how they didn’t crinkle at the corners like they usually did, he’d be lying.

“It shouldn’t be like that though,” Spot commented as the two headed up the main staircase.

There was a long hallway with soft pink walls and bright white wainscoting and crown molding. Each door had a unique nameplate hanging on it with impeccable gold calligraphy of two girls’ names carved out of painted wood. Spot mentioned something about Isabel’s room being at the end of the hall and, before he knew it, there they were.

“So, Iz,” Spot started, plopping himself down on her bed as the former sat at a glowing vanity, fixing her long, dark hair. “My friend Tony here happens to know a couple a’ guys in Sigma Epsilon, as a matter of fact. After you called me earlier, he mentioned he might be able to set something up for your girls.”

Isabel didn’t turn around as Spot spoke until the very end. She had a smile on her face and, as Spot and Race looked between each other, it was mutually acknowledged that their plan was perfectly falling into place.

“Well,” Isabel started, pulling a giant monogrammed planner out of her desk and flipping through its pages. She stopped on one page and seemed to scroll her eyes down the page with her finger, clicking her tongue as she did so. “We have...Lucy...Katherine...and Ramona.”

Spot nodded to Race to head into the hallway and the latter obliged.

“Thanks, babe. We’re just gonna’ go let them know when they’re getting picked up. I’ll, uh...meet you back here before I gotta go, okay?” Spot crossed the room to give Isabel a quick peck before meeting Race by the door and following him back into the hallway.

Race felt a heaviness in his chest, only slightly lifting as they were once again alone, but he just told himself that he would have to move on. He was falling and falling fast and if he didn’t get it under control, he’d lose the first person who was even remotely nice to him before they could even really call themselves friends. Besides, they hardly knew each other, Spot was probably straight, not to mention that he already has a _girlfriend_ , and still. It wasn’t like he deserved someone like Spot.

He would just have to take whatever he could get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for reading as always! sorry this chapter was a day late, I just had to finish typing it up from my notebook. anyway, be sure to comment and give some kudos! they always keep me motivated to write more! feel free to check me out on tumblr @tony-higgins to send feedback or request for things to happen later on in the story!
> 
> love you all:)))


	6. words of change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> and here's kath! surprisingly, i've never posted anything i've written her in before because i always thought my characterization of her was kinda bad, but hopefully you guys like this! this chapter opens up a few things that are going to come up very often very soon, so keep that in mind!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for mentions of potential sexual assault

So as Race tried to mediate some of his emotional turmoil, Spot walked down the hallway, looking at each of the door name plates until he called Race over, snapping him out of his love-sick trance. As he walked over to Spot, he recognized one of the two names on the door as one of the names Isabel had listed.

Before they could even figure out any sort of plan for what they were going to say, Spot knocked on the door. Within seconds, the door swung open and Spot rolled his eyes, chuckling a little as he stood before the girl.

“Jesus, do all the girls in this house not know to check who’s at the door first?” The girl seemed surprised and albeit a little bit taken-aback at Spot’s remark, but she simply blushed a little and laughed nervously. “Katherine, I assume?”

The girl, Katherine, smiled and Race couldn’t help but notice the immediate difference between her and Isabel. Her hair was bouncy and barely passed her shoulders. It was a dark auburn color and the large curls framed her slender face nicely. She had bright green eyes and pale skin free of any freckles or large blemishes, likely from her masterfully-done makeup. Her cheeks were rosy and she looked a little bit embarrassed as she awkwardly adjusted her top. She was pretty tall, barely shorter than Race’s five-foot-ten, and she appeared more put-together than she acted as she slipped her hands into the front pockets of her jeans.

“Yeah! Yes! Sorry, that’s me,” she rambled, extending a hand for the boys to quickly shake. “Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting any visitors or anything.”

“Don’t worry about it, you’re perfectly fine. We just...wanted to see if we could help you out with some...stuff, is all,” Spot assured her as she nodded and stepped back, letting the two into the room before closing the door behind them. She stood awkwardly by her desk as the boys looked around the room.

The walls were a light lavender purple with white trim just like the hallway. Two full bed with matching fluffy white bedding and tufted headboards sat against the opposite wall, and the two girls’ desks sat on the left and right walls, respectively, next to their dressers.

There wasn’t much in terms of decoration, likely because they had only recently moved in, but Katherine’s desk was already covered in stacks of paper, notebooks, and more things they couldn’t even identify.

“So, um,” she spoke up, drawing back the attention from around her room. “Do you guys...need something?”

Spot glanced at the door quickly before grabbing both of the other two and pulling them over to the nearest bed to sit down.

“Okay, I’m just gonna’ give it to you straight. Iz doesn’t like having virgin pledges. Don’t ask why, I’ve tried to get her to explain it too many times to count, but I figured it’s better to just fix this before she tries to do something about it,” he started, whispering harshly as if he was still paranoid that someone could hear them. “She thinks we have connections with Sigma Espilon and that we set something up for you and the two other girls to go hook up at a small party tonight.”

Katherine looked horrified. Race reached out a hand to place it on her knee and she seemed grateful for the comfort. He smiled sadly and she did the same.

“So...I have to go to a party?” She asked timidly. Race shook his head and Spot shut her down.

“No. No, of course not. You don’t have to do anything but...from experience, Izzy will _definitely_ not let this go. What we can do to help is set up a party with just a few guys who know that you’re not here to hook up. They won’t try to make a move on you or do anything you aren’t ready for, they’re just here to fake some hookups. You can do whatever you feel like, but no one’s going to pressure you into doing anything,” Spot continued. “We just want to give you guys a chance to pretend you did what she wanted and that way she’ll leave you alone about it.”

Katherine didn’t say anything. She grabbed a piece of her hair and wrapped it around her fingers as she stared at her bedsheet.

“Look, you don’t have to do any of this if you don’t want to. I get it, believe me. But I would like to help if you want it,” he finished, and Race felt such a surge of pride that this guy, this absolute _angel_ he somehow met, cared more about people he didn’t know than anyone Race had ever met in his life.

“No...no I trust you,” she spoke up. “I’d rather...just get it over with. If I can avoid her asking me about it for the next two years, that’s enough of a reason for me.”

So as Spot relayed the plan to Katherine, Race sat in silence to himself, watching the two interact.

He missed it. There was no way to sugar coat it. There wasn’t a day that went by where he didn’t miss being able to just have a conversation with anyone whenever he wanted. He hated being “that guy”, but watching people just have a conversation without realizing how lucky they were to just be able to hear each other’s voice really hurt. He was jealous, he’d accepted that a long time ago. Being jealous of people that didn’t have to deal with all the shit he did was bad, he knew it. They couldn’t control being able to speak the same way he couldn’t control _not_ being able to, but it still irked him.

Before he knew it, Spot was standing and so was Katherine and he had zoned out much longer than he had planned on.

“Oh, wait! One last thing,” Katherine interrupted as they boys began to leave. “I never got your names.”

“Sean, but you can call me Spot if you want,” he answered. Race bit his lip. “And this is Tony.”

Race fingerspelled his nickname just for kicks, in case Spot were to translate that as well. Apparently, he didn’t have to.

“Spot and Race?” Katherine snorted, chuckling into her hand. “Yeah, that sounds like a kids’ cartoon duo if I’ve ever heard one.”

 _“You can read sign?”_ Race excitedly responded, his eyes lighting up.

Katherine giggled a little.

 _“I’m learning,”_ she signed back, speaking along with her words. “That’s about all I know so far. Just that and the alphabet.”

She seemed embarrassed for not knowing more as if those two words she knew weren’t enough to tell Race he instantly wanted to get to know this girl.

He eagerly fingerspelled a response, trying to go slower than he was used to so the girl could understand.

“Yeah, I’m a journalism major, but with a minor in linguistics! I’m just trying to learn as many as I can at this point,” she explained as she watched Race’s hand intently. Spot ducked out to explain the situation to the other two girls while he let Race have his fun. It was nice to see his new friend smile so much.

In all honesty, Race hardly noticed Spot left at first.

 _“I could teach you sometimes if you want. Maybe we could meet a couple times a week to work on it?”_ Race spelled slowly and Katherine beamed.

“Of course! That would be great! I’ve been trying to learn online, but most of the signs are either wrong or not for beginners,” she explained, pulling out her phone. “Here, add your number so we can arrange some times to meet up!”

Race punched in his number quickly, handing her back the phone.

They continued talking, Race recommending some online programs for her to work on both ASL and other languages, and Katherine offering her free time to hang out and practice translating.

Neither noticed the way that Spot’s face fell as he came back from telling the other two girls what was going on and saw Race beaming alongside a smart, pretty girl that made him question why he took such an immediate liking to Race.

Just a little bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! as always, kudos and comments are greatly appreciated and are always a great motivator to keep me writing! 
> 
> also, i'm thinking of moving my posting day to tuesdays...thoughts? basically, it would give me more time to write, so longer chapters because monday is one of the days i have a lot of free time after school to write! chapters would be posted at 2:30pm on tuesdays at the latest, so let me know what you think!
> 
> and feel free to check me out on tumblr @tony-higgins! i'll be opening up some things soon for predictions for this fic and some PRIZES y'all can win based on how accurate they are/my favorites!


	7. ignored words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oh, more characters? you ain't seen nothin' yet;)

For the next half hour, as Spot drove Race back to his dorm building and they parted ways, Race almost didn’t think about Spot. Okay, that’s a lie, he couldn’t go more than five minutes without thinking of the painfully unrequited crush that he was desperately trying, and already failing, to get over. But for once he didn’t feel like he was going to let his stupid little crush ruin his college experience.

He put on some music, lit a candle, and changed into something only a _little_ bit intended to impress Spot. Sure, he never went to any parties throughout his teenage life, he never really shopped for clothes with the intent of looking good for someone else, and he had hardly ever received compliments on what looked good on him versus what didn’t, but he pulled something together. Besides, he had spent most of his life ogling guys that looked nice, so all he had to do was just emulate that, right?

Wrong. He immediately looked like a douchebag in the first outfit he tried on so, he tossed his backwards cap to the ground and swapped his basketball shoes that would never be used for actual basketball for his trusty black chucks.

He kept on his light wash skinny jeans with small holes in the knees and swapped his random athletic logo shirt for a white button up with tiny black dots and tucked only the front into his jeans the way he had seen people around campus doing recently.

Yeah, okay. That would have to do.

He finished some reading assignment for one of his classes as he waited for the time to get closer to when he would start to walk over but, at about eight at night, an hour or so before the party, someone knocked on his door. Sure, now he had a pretty safe assumption of who it would be. Besides, he had people that knew him for once in his life.

He was very wrong.

“So Spot told me you can’t speak and I can’t sign more than my name from what I learned in middle school, so I’m just gonna’ try to stick to yes or no questions, cool?”

Race stared Jack Kelly in the face for probably a little longer than he should’ve.

He remembered him from a few nights ago when he dropped a very drunken (but Spot off at his dorm, but it definitely wasn’t like they weren’t _super_ awkward the moment they didn’t have Spot there to blame the encounter on. Still, Jack was pretty hot too. Sure, he was no Spot, but Race knew a hot guy when he saw one.

“Okay, Spot told me you can’t speak and I really don’t wanna’ be rude so I’m gonna talk a lot, but he had to pick up the girls a little earlier than he planned and he asked me to come get you and give you a ride,” Jack rambled, nearly in one breath. “You in?”

Race took a second to stare before he nodded hesitantly.

“Cool, cool,” Jack answered, seeming relieved. “I got my car outside if that’s cool with you.”  
  
Race nodded again and followed Jack down the stairs.

As magical as riding around New York City on the back of Spot’s motorcycle was, Jack’s apparent beat-up van with chipping white paint covering every side was a little more like what he was expecting from a broke college student.

Race awkwardly climbed into the passenger seat, fastening his seatbelt as Jack started the ignition.

“So, where’re we goin’, Jackie?”

Race nearly screamed as he jumped out of his seat, the loud and unexpected voice from the back seat nearly giving him a heart attack. The voice started laughing, along with at least two or three other voices when Race, covered in a raging blush from head to toe, looked into the backseat.

There was a red-haired boy in a snapback and a tank top hanging off the back of Jack’s seat, likely the one who spoke up first. In the middle of the back seat row was a girl with short, dark hair, seemingly disinterested as she sipped from a travel mug with a cat picture on it and picked at a hole in her ripped jeans. On her right was a boy with similar dark hair, visibly much taller than all the others as he leaned his elbow against the door, scrolling through his phone with his other hand.

He was about it try to find some way to introduce himself when, of course, another voice spoke up.

“Guys! You’re scaring the poor kid!” A voice spoke ip, soon making himself seen as a blond-haired boy with bright green eyes folded his arms over the back of the seats. Race smiled a little. “You’re Spot’s friend, right?”

Race nodded.

“His name’s Race,” Jack answered, pulling out of the parking lot and down the street. “Or Tony, I can’t remember if Spot said you prefered one or the other.” Race shrugged to indicate either was fine. He didn’t feel like it was the right time to bring up how Spot using his real name somehow felt so much better than when anyone else said it. “‘Kay guys, be nice to ‘im or Spot’ll kick your ass.”

Race beamed.

After about fifteen minutes of Race texting back and forth with Spot as the latter repeatedly tried to apologize for the change of plans while Jack’s friends talked incessantly for the entire drive, they were there. Everyone loaded out of the van outside what really just looked like a shitty craftsman, _far_ from the luxuriousness of the Sigma Phi Alpha house. That is, if this even really _was_ a frat house. But still, it was nice enough for a bunch of college kids.

He half expected Jack to explain where the hell they were, but the boy was rushing to the back of the van and helping the blond boy out on what Race quickly noticed were a pair of forearm crutches. He couldn’t help but smile.

As the girl and the ginger guy went to unload a few cases of various types of alcohol from the backseat, Race hung back with the blond kid, finding a little comfort in not being the only disabled person in the group, which was _definitely_ not something he was used to. Jack got into some sort of semi-heated discussion with the tall boy, but the blond nudged Race in the elbow and his attention was taken.

“I’m Crutchie, by the way. Or you can call me Charlie. Your choice,” he spoke in a loud whisper. Race chuckled a little. Race smiled awkwardly, unable to really do much more without anyone around to translate for him, something Spot had apologized for profusely, knowing he wouldn’t be able to do much more than answer ‘yes’ or ‘no’ questions.

Fuck, he couldn’t even spend an evening with four, admittedly, _very_ attractive guys and even a pretty girl, but he still kept thinking about Spot. Fuck, indeed.

“Spot says he’s on his way over,” Jack mentioned as he clapped Race on the shoulder.

He followed the rest of the group inside, expecting to help set up before everyone else arrived or something, but from the minute he stepped inside, he could feel the music shaking the floorboards under his feet.

“Not to freak you out, but there’s gonna’ be kinda’ a lot of people downstairs. I know I can’t translate ot anything, but if you need someone to explain stuff away to get people off your case, feel free to come get me,” Crutchie offered as they headed for the stairs. “Believe me, I’ve been there.”

Race mouthed a quick ‘thank you’ as he followed behind the others.

And _man_ , did he miss out on high school parties.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks so much for reading! for anyone who isn't on my tumblr (@tony-higgins) I am going to be switching my upload days to tuesdays! 
> 
> as always, comments and kudos are what keep me motivated to keep writing this! plus, i would love some feedback going into the next chapter! I have a lot planned for the next chapter, but if anyone would like to request for something to happen, I'm willing to work it in! (or at least try to lol)
> 
> I promise there will be actual sprace content in the next chapter;) the slow burn will continue though! just sayin', things are gonna' get movin'.....;)


	8. drunken words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the longest chapter yet! sorry, it's kinda late in the day, but this is 1.3k words over my chapter minimum, so it's the longest one by-far! i really hope you guys like this one;)
> 
> here's the party you've all been waiting for...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so since apparently the last chapter wasn't obvious enough who all of the new characters were, it was supposed to be albert, davey, and sarah. there are a few other random people mentioned and while i did intend for them to be specific characters, i really didn't make it very obvious at all, so if anyone correctly guesses who all 3(i think there's 3???) of the randomly mentioned partygoers, you will get the next chapter early;)

Crutchie really wasn’t kidding when he said there were a lot of people. The basement had dozens of drunk college kids there  _ already _ and it was only about eight or nine o’clock. Needless to say, Race immediately felt the need to go hide in a corner. 

There were guys all over the place, one in particular with dark, tanned skin and  _ bulging _ muscles doing a handstand on the coffee table. Another was laying under the coffee table with the longest kids’ swirly straw Race had ever seen stuck into an entire bag of Franzia.

He followed Jack’s friends over to the bar set-up in the corner as they dropped off the extra alcohol supply.

“Hey, Sar, dont’cha want somethin’?” The red-haired boy asked as the girl plopped herself down on the ratty old sofa between a couple really aggressively making out and some guy laying upside down with his legs over the back of the sofa. 

“Al, you’ve known me since middle school,” she teased chugging from the cat travel mug she still held. “I’ve been sneaking boxed wine in travel mugs everywhere I go since I was sixteen. It’s pretty bold of you to assume I’ve matured since then.”

“Cheers to that,” some kid refilling his Camelback water backpack with four bottles of hard lemonade spoke up. Al, or whatever his real name was, cheers-ed the kid with a beer bottle of his own. 

“You want somethin’?” Al asked, catching Race’s attention. “We got just about anything, really. If you’re a wine guy, though, I’d get goin’ before Sarah gets a hold of it.” He whispered the end of it, just loud enough for ‘Sarah’ to stick her tongue out at him before going back to her drink, exchanging her tongue for the finger. 

Race looked over at the extensive array of bottles, cans, and boxes, which he could only assume held even more bottles and cans. None of which he had ever tried, which meant  _ way _ too much pressure. 

He shook his head and shrugged off Al’s question. 

“No prob, just let me know if ya’ change your mind,” he finished, turning and filling up a drink for some kid that approached the bar. “I’m the resident DD for the night, so just ask Spot for Albert if you need to go home at any point.”

Race smirked and nodded before resorting to his original plan: hiding in the corner. 

He found himself in a chair near the corner, watching everyone else milling about as he scrolled through some dumb article from the campus newsletter on his phone. 

His face when Spot walked in, however, was probably  _ very _ embarrassing if anyone had seen it. 

As soon as he heard the door open, his eyes snapped up and, after Spot seemed to do a full scan of the room, he locked eyes with Race and immediately made his way over. 

“Hey, you,” Spot started, seating himself on the armrest of Race’s chair, draping his arm around the back of it. 

Race signed a quick hello and after that, it seemed like time began flying. It was like there weren’t dozens of drunk teenagers all around them. It was just them in a room with music so loud they wouldn’t have been able to hear each other even if they tried to speak, but luckily for them, they didn’t need it. Not even Spot tried to speak. Race found a simple comfort in that, having someone else there that knew verbal speech wasn’t everything. Still, Race found himself waving to Katherine and the other two Sigma Phi Alpha girls every once in a while, once he even caught Jack watching them, but soon the two seemed to find each other. 

And by that, he meant once Jack saw Katherine, they talked for the rest of the night. How ironic. 

_ “You sure you don’t want to talk to someone else? If you need to go for a little bit, that’s totally fine, don’t worry about me,” Race signed when he realized how long the two boys had been talking.  _

Spot smirked, running a hand through his hair and driving Race absolutely wild.  _ “Of course not. Trust me, parties aren’t really my thing, despite how I’ve already been to two in the four days I’ve known you. I’d much rather just get to know you.” _

Race felt his cheeks heat up and he just knew he was fucked. Like Spot had just said, it had only been four days.  _ Four days _ and he had already broken all of his rules for this guy. 

Number one. Created on the first day back at regular school after the accident. Never try to use sign unless you know you someone there that speaks it. Your classmates will make fun of you until you graduate. 

Yup, he broke that rule the day he met Spot. He couldn’t exactly say he regretted it, but there was no denying it could backfire on him at any moment. 

Rule number two. No one likes you, at least not like that. Sure, it was harsh, but it was true. He’d learned that time and time again over the years. Still, it didn’t hurt nearly as much as getting his heart broken, that was for sure. 

Yeah, clearly Spot didn’t  _ like _ him. But he called him his friend. He was pretty sure that you had to like your friends, but then again he couldn’t speak from much experience. 

And rule number three. Don’t get attached. If they don’t like you, you shouldn’t bother liking them. In fact, just don’t form any sort of bond with anyone. It’ll never last. 

Whoops. Yeah, he didn’t just break that one, he practically shattered it. Oh well, he couldn’t really make it any worse than he already had. The least he could do would be to give himself at least a  _ little _ bit of time to enjoy having Spot around while it lasted. 

_ “Well, what do you want to know?” _

They talked for probably at least an hour until Spot mentioned his hands were getting tired and Race genuinely laughed because, for once, they almost had their own little inside joke. Also because jokes about his muteness or his signing were usually made at his expense and  _ definitely _ didn’t make him laugh. 

“C’mon, I’ll properly introduce you to the gang. Maybe get a little juice in your system,” he joked, placing a hand on Race’s back as the two made their way back over to the bar where Albert hadn’t seemed to have moved. 

“Hey dude! We weren’t sure you were gonna’ show,” Albert smiled, greeting Spot with some sort of weird handshake. 

“I planned it, didn’t I?” He teased, to which Albert shrugged and chuckled. 

“Racer, you ready for a drink?” Race bit his lip and shrugged, trying to make it seem like he knew what he was doing. 

“Trust me, I gotcha’. You don’t have’ta go too hard all at once,” Spot mumbled, just close enough to his ear to send chills down Race’s spine. 

“Just gimme’ two Coronas. We’ll probably be back,” Spot chided, grabbing both bottles in one hand by the neck after Albert popped the caps on both and handed them over. 

Spot’s arm rose to rest around Race’s shoulders and he had half a mind to just take him upstairs so they could get away from the raging crowds, but someone grabbed the sleeve of Spot’s hoodie and they both stopped. 

“You better not have been planning on bailing without saying ‘hi’,” Sarah spoke up, still on the couch, but this time she say with a whole bottle of wine in her hand and her feet in the tall boy from the van’s lap. Spot leaned down and grabbed her face, kissing her cheek sloppily and dramatically. “Ew! Stop  _ it! _ ” She squealed, laughing and kicking her legs wildly as the boy beside her rolled his eyes and moved out of the crossfire. 

“Tony, this here’s my baby sister from another mister,” Spot introduced, Sarah rolling her eyes. 

“Literally no one has said that since 2005,” she teased under her breath and Spot feigned offense. “What? It’s true!”

Race let himself laugh a little. 

“Conlon, I swear, if you’re just here to make my headache worse, I’m never coming back to another one of these,” the tall boy grumbled. Almost as if on cue, Jack swept back into the group, leaning over the back of the sofa and wrapping his arms around the boy from behind. 

“Aw, c’mon Dave, lighten up a little!” Jack fussed, ruffling the boy’s dark hair. Surprisingly, to Race at least, the other didn’t make any move to get him away. “Please, I know this isn’t your thing, but contrary to what you were hoping for from your college experience, having fun is at least a little bit required.” ‘Dave’ rolled his eyes and Jack scoffed, hopping over the back of the couch to plop himself down next to his friend. 

“Jackie, you’re drunk, please get off of me before you hurl your guts out on my lap,” Dave groaned, to which Jack draped himself across the two on the couch with his head on Sarah’s legs and his back arched across Dave’s.

“You love it,” he smirked, folding his arms under his head and his shirt rode up ever so slightly. 

“You know what I actually do love?” Dave smirked, setting down his phone and freeing up his hands.

“What would that be, Davey?” Jack smiled, clearly in a drunken haze impairing his ability to see what was very obviously about to happen. 

“This,” Davey laughed, immediately lunging on Jack as he tickled the boy’s stomach. Jack screamed in a mix of a high-pitched falsetto and a very forced low-voiced scream. His drunken giggles and screeches almost made Race a little jealous. He didn’t know why, he even hated being tickled, but Jack and his friends were all laughing and smiling and everyone could talk. 

He stepped back a little, standing more-so behind Spot than he was before, hoping to relax a little so no one noticed how stressed out he was. 

Apparently, that wasn’t so easy. 

“You okay?” Spot voice snapped his head up. He nodded, smiling just a little as he hoped it would be enough to persuade the other. He smiled back sadly, turning away from the group as he grabbed Race by the wrist, leading him towards the stairs. 

Once they were out of the basement, it was like he was able to breathe for the first time that night. He let Spot lead him through the main level and up the stairs where they passed through a hallway and into a mostly-empty bedroom. 

“So now is probably a good time to ask how you feel about heights,” Spot asked, his eyes lighting up in a way that made Race weak in the knees. 

_ “The higher the better, _ ” he signed, smiling without even realizing it. He really did love heights. In fact, one of his biggest dreams was to fly in an airplane one day. Simple for most people, sure, but he wanted that more than anything. 

So Spot led him to the window looking out towards the backyard of the house, opening it and taking one step out onto the roof. Race went to follow him as he held onto the windowsill, only stopping when Spot held out his hand instead. Race slid their hands together, taking Spot’s lead as he followed him across the roof to a semi-flat section where the shorter of the two sat down facing the city. The sun had fully set by then, but there was definitely no shortage of light from the city as they sat side-by-side in silence. 

Spot passed Race one of the bottles of beer and he stared at it for a second before taking a small sip. He coughed immediately, laughing slightly as he watched Spot toss his back like it was nothing. 

“You’ll get used to it,” Spot chuckled between sips. “It hurts like a bitch at first, but I swear it really helps when the shit you’re try’na forget hurts worse.” His dark humor actually hurt and, as much as Race wanted to pry and find out just a little bit more in case he could help, Spot definitely didn’t seem like a heart-to-heart kind of guy.  

Instead, Race sat with his arms around his knees, watching the flickering lights as they glowed across his face. 

Spot, on the other hand, laid with his elbows propping him up from behind watching Race. 

He almost didn’t notice, in fact, he wasn’t even sure how long he did it before he realized what he was doing, but it was nice. The city lights lit up his freckled face and caught in the weave of his messy pile of curls and Spot couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away. 

“I took Iz up here once,” Spot broke the silence, instantly regretting bringing up Isabel as soon as he did it for some reason. 

Race looked back at Spot, waiting for him to continue. All Spot noticed was that the light from behind his head looked just like a halo. 

“It was before we started dating, I think. We were out all night. She told me she had never seen the sunrise before and I brought ‘er up here,” he continued. “She said she preferred sunsets.”

Race thought for a second about how he could possibly answer to that, but he really just wanted to know one thing. 

_ “Are you happy?” _

The words lingered in the air for a moment afterwards as Spot simply stared at where Race’s hands rested on his knees. 

“Is anyone really?” His voice held such a cover of lies that Race could tell this wasn’t anything new. Whatever he didn’t know about Spot was something that had been going on for a long time. He seemed tired. Race knew exactly what that was like. 

_ “I’m not,”  _ Race admitted,  _ “But I haven’t been this close in as long as I can remember.” _

Spot’s head fell against Race’s shoulder and, before either of them could bring themselves to move, they decided to wait for the sun to rise, not caring at all what time it was or how long they would have to wait. Race told himself maybe Spot was just drunk. Maybe that one beer was enough for him, besides he was pretty small, maybe he had a low tolerance. 

He made up about a dozen excuses as to why Spot was still there. Why he hadn’t left Race in the dust like all the other “friends” that came before him. 

The only thing he didn’t consider was that, in a turn of events that anyone with eyes could see, maybe Spot needed Race just as much as Race needed Spot. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading! sorry this is kinda late at night, i just got home from band practice so i hope you all like this chapter! it's my longest one yet but like a thousand words so i really hope it turned out okay!
> 
> like always, comments and kudos keep me motivated to write! i'm always open to new ideas so if anyone has any requests or theories about future chapters, i'm always down to work with what you guys want/predict! also, check me out on tumblr @tony-higgins for this fic's playlist, as well as moodboards for it and other general updates!
> 
> xx love you all! see y'all next week!


	9. another’s words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you bet your ass I wrote other character centric chapters;)
> 
> prepare for some javid, newsbians, and a new surprise oc that I actually love;))))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hhhhh I got impatient

Jack lived for the thumping bass vibrating through the floorboards. He would give anything for the rush of a few too many drinks in his system and pretty girls dancing nonstop. His second year of college and he was living the high life. Drinking cheap beer out of plastic cups in the basement of a semi-abandoned house. The high life. 

“Hey!” He called, catching the attention of his roommate, Davey. “You’re not leavin’, are ya’?”

Davey sighed, turning and sitting down in a plastic chair next to Jack. 

“What’s it to you?” He grumbled, downing a sip of his drink. “You don’t have to leave with me.”

Jack looked around the room, trying to find any familiar faces in the sea of drunk barely-adults. 

“You really hate this?” Davey shrugged. 

“It’s a Thursday, Jack. I have three classes tomorrow,” he sighed. “I can’t just relax and go out whenever I want.”

Jack ran a hand through his hair, reaching over to the coffee table to grab a shitty pen and a cocktail napkin. He propped the napkin on his knee and started sketching. 

“Davey,” He spoke in a tone that mimicked that of a slightly-condescending teacher. Davey did not seem fond of this, but he rolled his eyes fondly. “I’m gonna’ tell you something that’s gonna’ save you from being a grumpy old man my the time you graduate.”

Davey snorted and pulled out a wad of headphones from his pocket. 

“You need to have fun. Look, your sister is the  _ epitome _ of fun,” he started, pointing at Sarah who was challenging one of the sorority girls to chugging an entire bottle of wine. “Whether it’s your family or your double major, or whatever, you don’t want these last three years to be the worst of your life, Dave. Trust me, letting loose every once in a while seriously helps when you need to double down and focus in a day or two. Like, if I know I have a party to go to at the end of the week, I know I have less than five days to get my shit done so I can have fun.”

Davey stopped trying to untangle the pile of white wires. 

“If it’s not your thing, it’s not your thing. You can go home, I’ll give you my keys and you can go, but maybe think about it?” And Davey nodded. He shoved his headphone jack into his phone and, as Jack took that as his decision to mope around for the rest of the night, he hung his head over his bottle, holding it and swishing the beer around inside.

“Here,” Davey spoke up, Jack looking to the side to see him holding out a single earbud, the other in the former’s ear already.

Jack chuckled, setting his drink down on the coffee table.

“No, no, no,” he smirked. “You stay right there. We’re gonna’ do this right.” He dashed off, dodging through the crowd to get to Albert at the bar. He returned a few seconds later with two red cups of sloshing liquid, one of which he handed to Davey. “I couldn’t even begin to tell you what’s in this, so drink fast and try not to think about it.”

Jack plopped himself down on the sofa and graciously accepted Davey’s opposite earbud, chuckling softly at the high-tempo classical music.

“If you’re gonna’ hang out with me, Jackie, you have to deal with my version of hype music,” Davey mumbled, just loud enough for Jack to hear from beside him. 

“That I can handle,” Jack smiled, tossing back another sip of his drink and sinking back into the sofa, letting the music drown out the rest of the party. 

* * *

“So you’re a freshman?” Sarah asked, trying to claim the attention of the redhead girl looking very confused by all of the drinks.

“Huh?” Her hair bounced as she whipped her head around. “Oh! Yeah, I am.”

“Cool, cool,” Sarah continued, climbing on top of the makeshift bar counter, sitting across the table from the girl. “I’m a sophomore, but it’s my brother and I’s first year here. We transferred in from out of state. University of Chicago, specifically.”

The girl smiled, her hands in her pockets. 

“Do you, um, maybe have any recommendations? Sorry, I’ve just only really ever had the stuff my father used to buy, so I’m not really used to all this, um, cheap beer and stuff,” She rambled, immediately covering her mouth with her hand, a horrified look in her eyes. “Oh my god, that’s horrible, I totally don’t mean it like that! I just meant, you know, my father was really picky about alcohol and stuff! I just, kinda, took whatever he had in the house, and I-”

“It’s cool,” Sarah interrupted, flashing the girl a smile and a laugh. “Trust me, we all know we’re cheap. What’s your name, princess?”

“Oh, god,” she groaned, a laugh in her voice as she buried her face in her hands. “That’s gonna’ stick around for a while isn’t it?”

“At least until I get your real name, that is,” Sarah chirped, reaching under the bar to grab two bottles of their cheapest wine. “Until then, I propose a toast.” She popped the corks one by one.    


“And what exactly are we toasting?” The redhead asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I don’t know,” Sarah started, her drunk brain clearly trying to come up with something. “How ‘bout we toast to your rich dad and his fancy liquor that I really hope gave you a high tolerance.”

The girl laughed, but shrugged, grabbing a bottle. 

“Keep up then, princey,” she teased, immediately tipping back the bottle and chugging as much as she could. She kept both eyes open, never making a face as she stared down her opponent. 

Sarah immediately pulled out her phone and took pictures, laughing as she watched the girl drain the last few drops of the bottle and immediately toss it behind the bar. Surprisingly or not, it didn’t break and merely bounced behind some empty boxes. 

“Eh, it’s drugstore wine. The bottle’s probably plastic,” Sarah joked, earning a laugh from her new friend. 

“Oh come on, stop stalling,” she teased, egging Sarah on.

“Fine,” the latter smirked, sweeping her ponytail off her shoulder. “Watch this.”

She, much like Katherine, tipped the bottle into her mouth, but instead held it between her teeth and chugged the whole thing with no hands. The moment she finished, she puffed the bottle out of her mouth and onto the floor, both girls laughing hilariously.

“Katherine,” the redhead spoke up once she composed herself slightly, jutting out her hand for Sarah to shake. 

The latter stared at it for a second before grabbing it gently and bowing slightly to bring it to her lips and kiss across the girl’s knuckles. “Sarah,” she spoke, sending chills up the other’s arm. 

Sarah Jacobs would be the first to admit she’d had more than platonic feelings for girls before, but Katherine? Yeah, this was  _ very  _ new and she couldn’t deny she kind-of liked it. 

* * *

“Who was that guy you were with earlier?” Albert whipped his head around to see one of his frat brothers, Austin, nudging him with his elbow. Albert dug through his memories of the night so far, only coming up with one person his friend wouldn’t know.

“Race? Kinda lanky, blond, not exactly talkative?” He suggested.

“Yeah, where’d he come from?” Austin asked, pulling off his cap for a second and repositioning his shaggy brown hair. 

Albert tossed his friend another beer bottle while they talked, the other catching it with ease. They were both there with baseball scholarships, after all. 

“You know Spot, right?” Austin nodded, popping the cap of the bottle. “Yeah, they’re friends I guess. I don’t really know why he came. Why, do you know ‘im?”

Austin took a second before he sighed, stepping back behind the bar next to Albert and away from the crowd around him. 

“You think he’s gay?” Austin asked, his voice barely audible. 

Albert was a bit taken aback, but he shrugged anyway. “I mean, just from tonight, I’d guess he’s all over Conlon for a reason, but I guess I don’t really know. Why, is that a problem or somethin’?” He couldn’t help getting a bit defensive. 

“Nah, definitely not,” Austin started vaguely. “Think he’d say yes if I asked ‘im out?”

Now  _ that _ was not what Albert was expecting.

“Y-you want to... _ oh _ , I mean, I don’t really  _ know  _ him, but like, yeah? Go for it, I guess,” Albert rambled awkwardly. 

Austin chuckled, clapping Albert on the shoulder. 

“We’re cool, right dude?” He asked, only a slight nervous quiver in his voice. 

“Yeah, ‘course,” Albert smiled, clinking their bottles together. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

Austin smiled, a slight blush on his cheeks before he ducked out, looking for a particular blond in the sea of people. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!! even though I’m posting today, there will still be an update on tuesday!
> 
> also, as always, comments and kudos are keeping me motivated on the last legs of this fic, so thank you so much and check me out on tumblr @tony-higgins for my details and updates!!


	10. avoided words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hhh
> 
> good luck not loving austin

For weeks Race couldn’t get that night off his mind for two very different reasons.

One, it was one of the last times he and Spot were alone together that didn’t feel like Spot was terrified out of his mind the entire time. It broke Race’s heart, despite him telling himself that this was exactly what was going to happen from the beginning. He set himself up to be heartbroken, he knew it, but it still hurt like hell to know that, after that night, something happened that broke whatever amazing thing they had going.

And two, apparently someone liked him. Like, _liked_ him.

A guy had shown up at his dorm room, told him Jack had given him his room number, and that he wanted to take him out for coffee. His name was Austin Newman, he was a sophomore with a world history major who grew up in Maine, and Race liked him.

He couldn’t sign more than the alphabet he learned in grade school, but he had more patience than anyone Race had ever met as he took the time to write down everything he needed to say in a little notebook Race had started carrying around since their first date.

He had a car, which was great considering the closer it got to winter, the harder it was for Race to breathe after an embarrassingly short amount of exertion.

And they went for coffee before Austin’s early morning practices on Fridays. Austin would pick him up and they’d go to a little coffee shop a block away from his practice field and then Race would sit on the bleachers and watch his hot pitcher kinda-boyfriend.

That wasn’t Spot.

Yeah, every time he went to bed, he’d see a framed selfie he took with Spot that night on the rooftop beside his bed, but then he’d open up his phone and see a picture of Austin at his latest baseball game.

He didn’t love him. Hell, they weren’t even dating, but he liked being with Austin. Moreso, he decided, than he liked being with Spot while Spot was with Isabel.

Oh, that and he had to come out to Spot. That wasn’t hard, per say, it was really just the way that Spot reacted that really stuck in his head. He looked almost relieved. Sure, maybe he had thought something bad was going to happen when Race had sent him a cryptic “we need to talk” text, but it looked like more. Sure, Race gave up overthinking it after a few days, but Spot definitely didn’t.

But he had Austin to keep him busy.

Austin, who liked _Lord of the Rings_ and could drink a dozen cups of coffee a day and still be tired as hell. Austin, who didn’t like holding hands because he was self-conscious about his long-ass legs and worried he would walk to fast for Race to catch up. Besides, he preferred keeping his hand in the boy’s back pocket like all of the old John Hughes movies he pretended to hate.

It was a pretty fucking amazing month and, as much as he doubted it was possible at first, he realized maybe he didn’t need Spot around as much as he thought he did.

* * *

Spot Conlon was fucking miserable.

After about a month or so of practically ignoring Race entirely, he broke it off with Isabel. Or, more accurately, she broke up with him.

He couldn’t stop thinking about it. He even skipped his class with Race for the first time just so he wouldn’t have to tell him they had broken up. In fact, the things she had said to him he couldn’t stop from repeating over and over in his head.

_“You know what this is about, Sean,” She warned him. He nodded, sighing as he ran his hands through his hair._

_It had been a while since he had cut it. Race told him he thought it looked nice longer. Isabel told him she missed his shaved sides._

_“Yeah,” he groaned. “Yeah, I know.”_

_“I don’t wanna’ say I don’t like him because I know you do,” She continued._

_Wait, what?_

_“What do you-” She interrupted him._

_“He’s your new best friend or whatever, I get it, but I’m not like that with my friends, Sean,” She kept going. Spot felt trapped. “I would never trade time with you for time with them. I’m sorry, I just wouldn’t. They’re my sisters and I love them, but I love you, Sean.”_

_He nodded, dragging his hands down his face as he sat down at the end of her bed._

_“I know, we spent a lot of time together at the beginning of the year, it’s just…” He trailed off. “You know I never really did the whole ‘friend’ thing growing up. I guess I just don’t know how to figure out a good balance, Iz.”_

_She nodded, crossing her arms over her chest. Spot couldn’t tell if she looked convinced or not._

_“You love him too, don’t you?” He froze._

_“What?”_

_She scoffed, brushing the hair away that had fallen into her face. Spot could see her eyes watering._

_“I know you love me. I can see it whenever I look at you,” she spoke, almost like a whisper. “But you love him too. I don’t even need to look at you to see that.”_

_“Iz, you know I don’t-”_

_“The way you love me isn’t the same way you love him, Sean. I know that,” She finished._

_“Thank you, I was worried you thought I-”_

_“You’re not in love with me.”_

_Her words hung in the air for longer than either of them would like to admit. Spot couldn’t bring himself to look up once he heard her start sniffling._

_“I know I have a piece of your heart, Sean. I know I have since I met you. You’ve never needed to tell me that,” She paused. “But you’re not in love with me. He has that part of your heart now.”_

And deep down maybe he knew she was right. He hadn’t been in love with her for a long time. They had changed so much over the years and it was about time they noticed, maybe it wasn’t for the better.

Looking back on their relationship, it was almost obvious. He legitimately couldn’t understand how they had been together for over two years at that point. They were so freakishly incompatible, yet they were so happy for so long. He loved her. He knew there was a time back when they first met where he thought they’d be together forever. It seemed like such a novel idea now. Spending the rest of his life with someone? Getting married? Maybe even having kids? It was almost like he’d just realized that could very realistically happen in the coming years. He was twenty-one, newly single, and living in the greatest city in the world. He could find a girlfriend if he really wanted to.

But maybe he didn’t want to.

 _But_ , Race had a boyfriend now.

Oh, and also maybe a different guy would be okay too.

* * *

It was three weeks after their first date that Austin finally got his shit together and asked Race to be his boyfriend. And Race said yes.

It had been three days since Race told Spot the good news. And Spot told Race his. Race had made sure not to talk much about Austin and, for the first time since that night on the roof, they stayed up in Race’s dorm until the early hours of the morning, only moving from their comfortable Netflix-binging position to watch the sunrise from Race’s shitty window the size of a sheet of paper.

It was as if the weeks in between that night and this one had never happened. Race was okay with that. Spot wasn’t sure if he was.  
All he knew was that as they watched the sun come up that morning, all he could think about was that if they could go back to that night on the roof, he would’ve kissed him right then and there. And that was _definitely_ a novel idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!! this story is actually coming to a close sooner than you guys might think!! i'm predicting maybe 5 chapters left???
> 
> anyway, as always comments and kudos make my day and they really keep me motivated to finish this thing!! check me out on tumblr @tony-higgins for updates on this fic, as well as my other work, exclusive fics that aren't posted on ao3, and more!


	11. long-awaited words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this one's kinda a long one! it's a bit of a filler chapter at times, but i'm setting up a lot of stuff to kick into gear next chapter!

“Do you wanna’ come to state with me?” Austin asked, breaking the comfortable silence of his and Race’s Friday morning coffee date. The other glanced up, quickly setting down his mug and scribbling out some words in his notebook. 

_ “Really? You want me to come?” _

Austin blushed a little and rubbed the back of his neck. 

“Yeah, of course,” he chuckled shyly. “I need my good luck charm there, don’t I?”

Race snorted, sipping his drink with one hand while he wrote with the other. 

_ “You don’t need me Aus.” _

“Bullshit, Tony,” He countered, more serious than Race had expected. “Babe, you know I love having you there. Besides, I could always use another good luck charm.”

Race felt his heart flutter at the pet name, setting down his drink to instead hold onto Austin’s hand over the table. 

_ “I’ll be there if you want me,”  _ He wrote, sliding the paper over to Austin who beamed when he read it. He took Race’s hand and brought it to his lips. 

And Race realized just how far gone he was. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, quickly checking the text to read just one.

From Spot. 

**Spot** : hey, you busy? I got somebody back at my place I want you to meet.

He quickly collected his things, tucking his phone into his pocket.

“Wait, babe, what happened?” Austin’s face fell as Race got up to leave. The other smiled, quickly scribbling out an explanation on a table napkin. 

_ “I’ll probably be back for your practice later, don’t worry. At the very latest, I’ll see you for dinner tonight.” _

Austin nodded as he read Race’s message, a slightly-genuine smile on his face as he leaned up to give Race a quick peck goodbye. And Race felt a little bit bad about leaving. Still, times when he and Spot were able to hang out were limited nowadays and, if he was being honest, he felt more at rist of losing Spot than Austin, so he made the fairly easy call. 

He faced the cold as he headed through the city. With his earbuds in and his hands in his pockets, it was a little bit easier to not think about the freezing temperature, but mainly, he was just anxious to see Spot again. 

As he finally reached Spot’s apartment, he practically jogged up the stairs, desperate to get in from the cold, He knocked on Spot’s door, his teeth chattering and his whole body shivering. 

Spot swung open the door, his expression immediately faltered. 

“Holy shit, did you walk here? Dude, I assumed you were just at school, I could’ve come to get you!” Spot rambled, quickly grabbing Race by the wrist and leading him inside. “Here, I have some hot cocoa, you can go ahead and sit on the couch or something. You know your way around.”

Spot stepped into the kitchen to pour out a mug of cocoa from a pot on the stove. He passed the mug to Race who graciously accepted it with shaking hands. 

“Jesus, Tony, the dumb shit I text you about is definitely not worth getting hypothermia over,” Spot spoke awkwardly, a slight chuckle off nervous laughter in voice. 

_ “Obviously it is,” _ Race snorted, setting down his mug for a second to sign. It almost felt foreign to sign so much, considering Spot was one of the only people in his life that could sign and since they hadn’t been spending as much time together. Yeah, he had taught Austin a few basic signs, but it was like he forgot how easy it used to be to talk to Spot. It was refreshing.

“Race, please take care of yourself,” Spot answered, a more serious, genuinely concerned tone that softened Race a little bit. 

“You don’t have to worry about me, Spotty,” he signed, quickly picking up his mug to warm his hands again.

They sat in silence for a little while, both sipping their drinks to warm up before a small crash shook the floorboards slightly from the other room. 

“I’m...gonna’ go see what’s going on, be right back,” he rushed out before diving off the sofa and sliding down the hallway. Spot grabbed the doorway and disappeared into what Race knew was his bedroom. 

He appeared about a minute or so later with a small girl on his back, squealing and laughing as he ran across the room and tossed her down onto the couch. 

Race couldn’t help smiling as he watched Spot spin the girl around before jumping over the back of the sofa and sitting down beside her. 

_ “Tony, this is Delilah. Dellie, meet Tony,”  _ Spot signed, the girl reading his signs before turning to Race and signing a quick greeting.

Race couldn’t believe what he was watching.

_ “You can sign?” _ He asked, his hands flying with eagerness. The girl giggled before nodding. 

“She’s my little sister. We had the same foster parents a while back, maybe a year or two before I got placed with Jack,” he signed along as he spoke. “That foster ma’ we had ended up adopting Jack n’ me when we were in high school, so I told her about Dellie, and now she’s been living there for a few years.”

_ “Nice to meet you,” _ Race signed, beaming. 

“She taught me to sign when I was sixteen. She was twelve and one of her teachers at school had started giving her lessons out of school hours so she could understand when the teacher signed along with her lessons since her foster parents at the time couldn’t afford a private translator,” Spot explained, whispering to Race when Delilah started playing a game on her phone. “She got moved around to a lot of different houses growing up. Most parents turned her down when they just thought she wasn’t listening to what they said. She had been deaf all her life so she was never even taught how to talk until she was in middle school.”

Spot sighed, running a hand through his hair. 

“She’s a good kid. So many families just turned her away before even checking to see if there might be something wrong.” Race nodded. He knew exactly what that meant. 

_ “When I first came back to school after the accident, the kids were just like that. Nobody cares if it takes any more effort than it takes to make some snide comment. If being rude is easier, that’s what they do,” _ Race signed, trying to keep his signs small so that Delilah wouldn’t see what they were talking about. 

“I’ll have to take you to meet my ma’ sometimes,” Spot chuckled. “She’d like you.”

Race blushed, dragging his hands down his face.

“You know what, I actually gotta’ take Dellie home later, so you could always come along if you want.” Without even thinking, he agreed. 

Race got to know Delilah in the next hour or so; he helped her with her homework while Spot made lunch, and they ate their grilled cheese sandwiches on the couch while they watched ‘Star Wars Episode V’ with the subtitles on. 

In all honesty, it was terrifyingly domestic in Race’s opinion. Before he knew it, he and Spot were walking Delilah home with one of their hands in each of hers. And he felt guilty. He felt guilty because he really  _ loved _ that feeling. 

_ “Can I take you somewhere?”  _ Race signed to Spot as they approached Spot and Delilah’s mom’s house.  _ “After this, I mean.” _

“Yeah, ‘course,” he whispered softly, keeping his voice down so Delilah wouldn’t hear. “Anywhere.”

So Race smiled and nodded to himself as a tall woman with perfectly smooth, dark skin and an intricate hairdo opened the door, immediately greeting the other two.

“Sean, baby, who’d you bring me this time?” She tease, Race waving awkwardly. Spot chuckled, sliding his arm around his mom in a slight hug. 

“Ma’, this is Tony,” he stated before leaning into her ear. “No puede hablar, pero será muy paciente y lento con el lenguaje de señas.”

Man, Spot speaking spanish was like crack to Race. Instantly addicted. 

“Puede oir?” She whispered back. Spot nodded. “Nice to meet you, dear,” she spoke sweetly, Race reaching out to shake her hand, but the woman instead pulled him in for a hug. When they pulled apart, Spot grabbed onto Race’s wrist before his mom had the chance to interrogate him. 

“We’re just gonna’ go on a walk, ma’,” Spot called, waving to his mother as he dragged a chuckling Race down the stairs behind him. 

_ “Goodbye, ma’am,” _ Race quickly signed with one hand as he laughed, trying and failing to keep up with Spot. 

“It’s Miss Medda to you, dear,” she called after the pair, waving back as they ran off. 

“So,” Spot spoke up as Race began to lead the way. “Where are we off to, Racer?”

_ “You’ll see,” _ Race answered nonchalantly, shivering further into his coat as he shoved his hands into his pockets immediately after signing. He honestly didn’t want Spot to know how big of a deal this place was to him just yet. 

“Alright, fine,” Spot faked annoyance. “What’d you think of Dellie? I would’ve liked for you to maybe get to know her a little longer, maybe we could go to the park or something some other time, but-” Race made a motion like cutting him off. 

_ “She’s lovely. Seriously, Sean.” _

Spot seemed to light up. Race kept walking, feeling slightly sick to his stomach as his hands trembled in his pockets. 

“I guess that means you’ve met the whole family then,” he sighed, a mix of relief and contemplation on his face. Race knew not to ask about his birth parents. Hell, Spot had known him for about four months at that point and he had never once even asked what happened to his voice. 

Sure, he knew that when it came down to it, he didn’t owe Spot anything, but he couldn’t help but feel like Spot deserved an explanation. Besides, Austin was the first person he’d told about that night in years and he just needed someone who could patiently listen and not ask questions. 

Austin was lovely. That wasn’t the problem, but Race spent over an hour one night writing and rewriting his whole story out for the other boy to read because he just couldn’t stop thinking about how if he somehow worded it wrong, there’d be no going back. 

But Austin was there when he was sick of brushing off every question about his past. Austin sat and held Race’s hand as he read and brushed away his tears when he couldn’t stop crying just thinking about it. Austin, though, asked and asked, and asked questions until he knew every last detail. He meant well by it though, of course. He wanted to know everything just in case something ever happened in the future. He wanted to make sure there wasn’t anything that could set his boyfriend off, not to mention bring back any memories from that night. He just wanted to understand the extent of what Race was and wasn’t comfortable with. 

That, and Austin had a car. 

Race  _ hated _ Austin’s car. 

He just needed to tell someone else for the sake of having someone who knew. Spot would have to do for that.

As soon as Race walked up to the doors, Spot froze.

“Tony, I don’t know if I should be-”

_ “Please?” _ Race interrupted, Spot trailing off as he saw the other start signing.  _ “Please, Sean. I just...I haven’t actually been here with anyone since I was like fifteen and-” _

“Okay,” Spot interrupted back. “Okay, if you want me to come with you, I’m there.”

Race smiled sadly, nodded to himself, and pushed open the doors. His boots squeaked on the marble floors and echoed down the various long hallways. If Race’s hand found its way around Spot’s bicep to try and stop himself from shaking, Spot wasn’t going to question it. 

He led the duo near the end of one of the hallways, stopping before one of the plaques on the wall. There were benches along the hallway, spaced in front of the walls and walls of plaques and, as Race kneeled down on the floor, he leaned his forehead against the cold metal nameplate, sighing heavily. 

Spot slid down beside him, watching the other boy’s face. He glanced at the name on the tile, his chest tightening as he realized who the man was. 

Race’s hands shook as he finally brought his gaze up to meet Spot’s eyes. They were red, brimming with unshed tears and Spot’s heart felt like someone was slowly squeezing and squeezing it. 

_ “He died the night I lost my voice,”  _ Race slowly signed, his hands barely making the correct signs.  _ “I...I feel like you need to know what happened that night.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks again for reading everyone! as always, comments and kudos make my day!
> 
> y'all know the drill lol


	12. apologizing words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> here's the tail end of race and spot's conversation:) 
> 
> for those of you that were a little mixed up last chapter, (i guess i didn't really explain it enough but oh well) spot doesn't know what happened to race's voice and race decided to tell him in the last chapter. because the whole backstory to this is in the first like,,,2 chapters, i didn't feel like rewriting it and making you all re-read it lol
> 
> so here's the end of that story, how race has sort-of changed over the years since then, we get a little snippet of the consequences of spot and race's outing, plus an apology

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: a little bit of a romanticization of death and mentions of wanting to die

_“And...a few months later I just...I got so frustrated with everything,”_ Race sighed in between phrases, trying to catch his breath as his hands grew more and more rushed. _“I was trying to learn sign and I was going to this weird physical therapy for my voice every other day, and I hadn’t seen or heard from any of my friends since the accident, and I couldn’t go to school, and I missed my dad and I just...I wanted to scream really badly so I tried.”_

Spot watched as Race immediately dug his fingers into the fabric of his coat and he quickly grabbed the boy’s hands, pulling them away until Race relaxed a little. “Hey,” he spoke softly, his voice a gentle whisper. “Hey, shh, it’s okay. It’s just me, you don’t need to say anything that’s too hard, yeah?” Race nodded. “Take your time, just remember to breathe.” He nodded again, sneezing into his arm and rubbing the tip of his nose on his sleeve. When he pulled away, Spot could finally see that the tip of it was slightly pinker than usual, along with his cheeks, both standing out against his skin which, to be quite honest, was looking much paler than usual.

“Are...are you getting sick?” Race shrugged it off and shook his head. Spot didn’t seem convinced. “Tony, you said it yourself when I got sick over Thanksgiving break, you never get sick.”

 _“Yeah, and I’m not sick now,”_ he smiled a little as their light banter continued.

“Alright fine, wise guy,” Spot chuckled, slightly relieved but still a little worried. “Let me know if you’re wrong.”

Race nodded, the smile fading slightly.

 _“The last time I got sick was the night I almost killed myself from just being impatient,”_  he signed, a dark, humorless chuckle following. _“They said it was like a seizure. Basically, my throat and my vocal cords couldn’t handle me trying to scream and all that shit, so they swelled up that night and I couldn’t breathe. My mom freaked out and drove me to the hospital.”_ Spot felt like he could throw up just thinking about Race like that. _“I was in the hospital for a week or two.”_ He did that fucking chuckle again. _“I still hate hospitals.”_

He seemed to realize something, his watery eyes widening as he looked up, grabbing onto Spot’s arm.

 _“Sean, I need you to promise me something,”_ he rushed out, his hands flying a mile a minute, almost too fast for Spot to read.

“Anything.”

_“Please, if anything, no matter how small or simple it is, ever happens to me, please don’t send me back to a hospital. I would rather die, to be completely honest. I don’t think I’d be able to handle going back there. I don’t-”_

His hands froze the moment Spot’s made contact with his face. No, he didn’t hit him, he would never, but Race felt his heart skip about ten beats in one simple touch.

Spot couldn’t help himself for one reason and one reason only. There was no way in hell Race was lying.

“Tony…” he trailed off, his hand brushing a small curl back under the boy’s beanie where it belonged. “God, you know I can’t do that. I...I could never fucking do that, oh god.” He buried his head in his hands, trying to stop himself from picturing everything Race was saying. “Please, Tony, please don’t ask me to do that.”

And Race nodded, letting the smaller boy lean into his chest, Spot instantly curling his hands around Race’s jacket as he listened to the boy’s heartbeat.

“You’re the best friend I’ve ever had,” he croaked, his voice raw and cracking. “Please, I can’t lose you.”

He couldn’t even shut his eyes for a second without seeing Race in that car with his neck about to snap. Or Race in that hospital bed, a dozen doctors and nurses trying to figure out why this poor kid couldn’t seem to breathe for the life of him. And god, the thing that really stuck was seeing the boy he loved laying across the backseat of his family’s car, terrified to be on the road again in what very well could have almost been the night he died.

Fuck.

He loved him.

* * *

He didn’t mean to forget. He didn’t mean to break down at the cemetery, he didn’t mean to spill the things he had been thinking for years but never told.

But he and Spot went and bought hot cocoa and sat on a bench in Battery Park until the sun went down. The snow started falling again as Spot walked Race back to his dorm. The latter couldn’t stop sneezing and coughing and, despite Race’s many protests, Spot even layered his own coat over Race’s to keep the other warm.

“So you and Austin leave for Syracuse tomorrow, right?” Spot asked as they walked up the stairs of Race’s dorm building to his room. Race nodded. “That’s a long drive.”

 _“I’ll be fine, Spotty,”_ Race smirked, pulling out the key on his student lanyard and unlocking the door. _“I’ll see you around.”_

Spot waved as he headed off down the hallway and Race froze the second he opened the door.

“Race, what the hell happened?”

Spot stopped walking as he heard the other’s voice.

 _“Austin?”_ Race signed slowly, knowing the boy knew enough sign language to recognize his own name.

“Tony, I’ve been waiting here since five,” Austin sighed, looking Race up and down as his voice turned soft. “Is that his jacket?”

Race looked down at his arms, just noticing the fact that he’d grown so used to the added warmth that he’d forgotten to give Spot his coat back.

He furiously dug through his coat pockets for his notepad, fumbling it open and digging through his backpack by the door for a pen before Austin grabbed his hands, stopping Race before he could start.

“Don’t bother,” he signed, not meeting Race’s eyes. “I get it, I know. You lost track of time, whatever, just…let’s forget about this.” And he walked right past Race and out the door.

And Race let him go. He backed up and closed the door behind Austin, sinking down with his back against it as he flipped open the notepad and started writing. That night, as he crawled under the covers, he fell asleep staring at the door and just waiting for Austin to come back.

* * *

_Aus,_

_I know you hate when people say sorry so I’m going to try to say it as little as possible. I’m so fucking sorry though. He’s been trying to get me to meet his little sister for the longest time and she got out of school early today so he had me come over to meet her and I know this is a terrible excuse to miss the dinner we’ve been planning for like a month, but I’m so sorry. I would go back and fix it in a heartbeat if I could, I hope you know that._

_But I told him about my dad, Aus. You know I’ve hardly ever told anyone the full story of what happened to my voice other than you and it felt so good to finally come clean. I know it doesn’t give me a pass to blow off our plans, I’m so fucking sorry for not even thinking to tell you to call and cancel or anything, but I’ll make it up to you I promise._

_If you still want me, I’m yours._

_Tony_

* * *

When Race woke up to ‘I’m sorry I freaked out on you’ coffee before the drive to Syracuse it was safe to say he was pleasantly surprised by Austin once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for reading! i hope you guys liked this chapter:)!!
> 
> we're nearing the end of this story and i'd love to hear what you guys think is going to happen next! as always, comments and kudos are keeping me motivated to finish this so hmu on tumblr @tony-higgins or down in the comments!


	13. last words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ok i'm so so so sorry it's been so long since i've updated but this chapter is super long for this fic and i've been super busy with school and finals and all that so hopefully you guys like this!
> 
> tw: homophobia & homophobic slurrs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alsoslurs it's my birthday today so if y'all could send me some love in the comments, that would make my day!
> 
> and i'd love to hear all of your predictions for what's going to happen next! the next chapter is most likely going to be the last so i'd love to hear what y'all think is gonna go down!

“Home sweet home for the weekend,” Austin sighed, dramatically flinging himself across their hotel room bed as Race chuckled fondly. “I'm pretty sure I have to meet my coach in like an hour just to check in but I think I have to take a nap right now or I’ll die.”

Race snorted at his boyfriend’s theatrics before ducking into the hotel bathroom and appearing a few minutes later with his hair tucked into a beanie and at least three more layers than he had been wearing before. 

“You goin’ out?” Austin glanced over from his position of staring at the ceiling above the bed. 

Race pulled out his phone, shooting the boy a quick text instead. 

**Race** : I’m going out for a coffee or something. I’ll bring you something if you want to nap:

Austin yawned, tossing his phone across the bed as he rolled over, burying his face into a pillow. 

“You’re the best,” he drawled into the pillow, Race chuckling as he pulled on his boots and ducked out the door. He slid on a pair of headphones, shuffling some winter-themes playlist, and looked up some quick directions to a coffee shop he spotted on the drive through town.

Compared to New York City, Syracuse was like a whole different world. Sure, the city reminded him a lot of Brooklyn in particular and the snow was just a  _ little bit _ worse than it was back home, but he just felt like the city was so much more special. No one was as angry as they were back home. Nobody tried to knock him into the street, nobody shoulder checked him as he passed by, and people actually smiled and waved for other people rather than cabs. With the cheesy Christmas music playing in his ears and the snow falling around him, it was straight out of a winter wonderland. 

He made a mental note to make Austin have a snowball fight with him sometime that weekend. 

He ducked into a small, warmly lit shop at the corner of a busy street, instantly warmer as he stepped inside from the cold. The line to order wasn’t long, giving him just enough time to write out his order in his notebook, and before he knew it, he had a warm black coffee in his hands as he sat by the partially-frosted window. As he slowly sipped his drink, he responded to a few emails, video calling his mom just to let her know he and Austin had arrived safely, and he spent longer than he’d like to admit checking in with Spot. 

**Spot:** you to make it up there ok?

**Race:** haha yeah dw everything went ok

Race paused, taking a few sips of his drink as he drew a little smiley face on the misty glass of the window.

**Spot:** you sure?

**Spot:** i just wanted to make sure bc the whole car thing and all that

**Spot:** but you’re sure you’re good?

Race smirked as he watched the messages roll in. 

**Race:** spot i promise you, the drive was perfectly fine

And it was. In all honesty, he felt so much better after talking to more people about what had happened. The whole drive there, Austin kept checking on him at every intersection just to make sure he was okay and, though it was a little overbearing at times, it was so sweet and Race had never felt safer. 

**Spot:** glad to hear it. I’ll let you get back to whatever, but have a nice trip

**Spot:** tell newman i said good luck tomorrow

**Race:** noted. I miss you already you dork

Race smiled, flipping his phone down onto the table, hoping to save his minuscule battery life to listen to music on the walk back to the hotel as he just about finished off his drink.

“Need me to call you a cab, kid?” He snapped his head up, noticing a young to middle-aged woman standing beside his table, mild concern on her face. 

Race blushed, shaking his head as he smiled awkwardly.

“You sure?” He read the nametag clipped on her apron. Hannah. “Trust me, a little stick thing like you is  _ not _ gonna’ want to be walkin’ around town with the weather like this.”

He took a pause before he brushed her off. If he really  _ was _ getting sick, he definitely didn’t want to miss Austin’s big game or anything, so he shrugged and nodded. The woman, Hannah, chuckled as she headed back to the counter.

“Smart boy,” she teased as she patted him in the shoulder, calling a cab with the phone in her other hand. 

Race wrote a quick thank you note on a napkin and handed it to Hannah once he picked up the to-go hot cocoa for Austin and headed out to meet the cab. He passed over a paper with the hotel name and address on it to the driver and sat back to stare out the half-frosted window and listen to his music. 

Austin was still asleep when Race got back to their room, much to his annoyance, but also not really a surprise considering the older boy had spent the entire day driving.

Race gently shook the boy’s shoulder, eliciting a groan that lasted until his eyes saw the still-steaming cup of hot cocoa.

He satisfied his stuffiness with about half a box of tissues as Austin drank his cocoa in half-asleep silence, but he quickly got out his phone and sent the boy a quick message. 

**Race:** we still have to go to that pre-game dinner tonight right?

Austin reached for his phone on the nightstand as soon as he heard it buzz but he nodded, the lip of the travel mug still in his mouth. 

“It’s only an hour or two, Racer,” he assured him, setting down his drink to instead crawl out from under the covers and kneel on the bed behind his boyfriend, wrapping his arms around the other’s shoulders. “Plus, my whole family’s gonna’ be there.”

Despite the context, Austin didn’t seem too excited about that fact.

Race typed out a message knowing Austin could read it over his shoulder.

**Race:** do they know I’m here?

Austin sighed, running a hand through his hair as he moved Race to relax against his chest. He pressed a kiss to the underside of the boy’s ear.

“They know I’m dating someone,” he admitted. “But I never came out to them. To be honest, I didn’t know I even liked guys until I got to college and by then I wasn’t really as close with my parents anymore. I always just thought I didn’t like the girls at my school, but here we are.”

He chuckled and Race could feel himself smiling. 

“To be honest, I don’t really know where they stand with like...gay stuff. It was never something we talked about, but they’ve never...said anything I guess,” he reasoned, dragging a hand down his face.

**Race:** you know I’ll stand by you no matter what, right?

Austin reached around to turn Race’s head towards him before kissing the other deeply, sinking his fingers through the blonde boy’s curls. 

“I know,” he whispered against the other’s lips.

* * *

That night, around six, Race dragged his boyfriend out of bed and into something more presentable than joggers and a hoodie, much to the older boy’s protest. Two button up shirts, a pair of chinos, and reluctantly, a pair of jeans later, two boys boarded an elevator hand in hand.

The hotel had a ballroom of sorts near the lobby that adjoined with the restaurant on site. It was mildly decorated, mostly just their school colors on the tablecloths and a few team mascot logos on the centerpieces, but there were plenty of tables along the walls for people to hide from socializing. Yes, Race had his notepad in his pocket and his phone voice app ready if needed, but he really didn’t want to get all chummy with anyone he didn’t really need to know. The less judgment, the better. 

He pulled out his phone, sending a quick text as Austin left to quickly go greet his coaches, standing off to the side of the room.

**Race:** let me know when you’re here so you don’t have to wander around the hotel looking for this place lol.

He tucked his phone back into his pocket, ignoring the buzz of a new notification when he spotted exactly who he was looking for across the room. Race signed a quick hello to catch her attention before she looked up from her phone and quickly hurried across the room to give him a hug. 

_ “Kath, how the hell did you get stuck in traffic for an extra hour and a half and still end up looking better than me?”  _ He signed as they pulled apart, admiring the older girl in a  dark green short-sleeved jumpsuit that stood out beautifully with her red hair in a casual updo. Her makeup was minimal, but yet she still somehow looked more put-together than anyone that was actually there for the party.

The girl chuckled, brushing a few stray hairs out of her face. 

“What, you think being in traffic means I somehow can’t get anything done? I wrote two articles, finished my biology homework and even had time to do my eyeliner all before I even got to Syracuse,” she bragged jokingly, dramatically fanning herself. “Seriously though, you don’t think this thing looks ridiculous?” She gestured to her jumpsuit, adjusting the belt around the waist. “Sarah got it for me for my birthday and I’ve never worn it but she said it looked hot, so I figured I might as well try it.”

Race rolled his eyes.  _ “Dude, first of all, she’s right, you look hot, but also, you literally always look great somehow so I fully expect you’ll have at least a handful of gross baseball players fawning over you all night.” _

Katherine giggled, looking around the room to find that, yeah, he was definitely right. 

“What, and  _ your  _ boyfriend isn’t a gross baseball player?”

_ “Oh, no he totally is, but he’s the cute kind of gross,”  _ Race laughed, taking a glance to smile at Austin who flashed him a very stressed look as he stood surrounded by teammates, coaches, and parents.

“Right,” she drawled, pulling out a notebook from her bag. “So, are you gonna’ help me figure out who the hell these people are or what?”

Race chuckled and shrugged, following Kath as she headed over to what looked like a player and his parents to interview them. 

Luckily for Race, Kath had wormed her way into writing an article about the kick-off of the school baseball season and, with gas money compensation and a hotel room for the weekend, Race had his own personal translator for the weekend which  _ definitely _ helped.

As one of the wait staff came around the room with a tray of drinks, Kath grabbed one, flashing her ID before plopping down on the bench beside Race.

“Want me to grab you one?” She asked, knowing the boy was too young to  _ legally _ get drinks. Plus, in Race’s own words, he looked too much like a thirteen-year-old to ever pull off using a fake ID. 

Race made a show as if he was really thinking about it, but eventually shook his head.  _ “Probably not a good look for when I meet my boyfriend’s potentially homophobic and ableist parents.” _

Katherine snorted, almost spilling the glass with whatever artificially-flavored mixed drink made to match their school’s iconic purple color. “Here, at least taste mine. This shit is basically pure sugar anyways.”

He rolled his eyes.  _ “Kitty, I’m sick,”  _ he complained with his face as he signed. The girl scoffed. 

“Who cares? I got my flu shot already, you’re good.”

Race shook his head. “So did I and I haven’t been sick since I was like twelve.”

“Alright, fine, fine, whatever,” she giggled, nearly gagging as she took another sip. “Jesus Christ this is a lot of sugar.”

* * *

"Hey,” Austin chided, appearing on the bench at Race’s side as he slid his arm around the boy’s waist. “My mom just texted me to let me know she and the rest of my family are just down the street. She said they’ll be here in ten minutes or so.”

Race nodded, shivering slightly both because a thing shirt wasn’t doing much in terms of body heat, but also because he was just now realizing that he was absolutely fucking terrified of meeting Austin’s parents. 

“Tony, look at me,” Austin spoke quietly, leading Race off to stand in a nearby corner as Katherine went to talk to the newly-available coaches for her article. “I’ve never met anyone like you. In fact, there probably isn’t anyone even a little bit like you and if my family is anything like me, I know they’re gonna’ love you. I don’t know...I don’t really know how they’ll take the whole ‘us being  _ together _ ’ thing, but to be honest, I don’t care. I just want to be happy and if they don’t support it, oh well. You make me so happy, Ant. I’m not letting you go that easy, no matter what they think of you, or me, or our relationship.”

Race sniffled, nodding slowly as Austin hugged him tightly, pressing a kiss into the other boy’s hair.

“Austin?”

Both boys froze before Austin quickly pulled away, jumping to his feet as he ran to hug the woman that just walked through the door. A little boy no older than ten or eleven followed close behind her and as soon as Austin noticed him, he scooped up the boy, swinging him around. Race smiled watching him with his family, grateful that they didn’t seem concerned about what they walked in on. He talked with his mom, neither of them looking back at Race, thankfully. She took pictures of Austin all dressed up, and some of him giving his brother a piggyback ride, but Race could tell she was wondering who he was. 

“Hey, mom?” Austin’s voice made Race’s stomach churn as the boy left his mom and brother and came closer, grabbing onto Race’s arm as he stood up. 

Austin’s mother really looked a lot like him. She had short brown hair, slightly wavy at the ends just like Austin’s. Her eyes were a dark green, potentially the source of Austin’s hazel ones, and her smile seemed practiced, not fake, but like she was always smiling.

“Mom, this is Antonio,” he started, Race reaching out to shake her hand, but the woman pulled him into a hug instead. When they separated, Katherine magically appeared at his side. “Oh, and this is Katherine.”

“Nice to meet you, miss,” Katherine greeted, receiving a hug from the woman as well. 

“Please, call me Helen,” she smiled, looking between Austin, Race, and Kath. “Hold on, honey is this the girl you were telling us about?” Her eyes lit up as she recalled Austin telling her he was dating someone. “I’ve got to call Bill, he’s still trying to figure out how to park the car.”

Austin looked at Race beside him, took a deep breath, and shook his head. 

“No, mom,” he interrupted her excitement. Maybe Helen wouldn’t have noticed something was wrong if he hadn’t said it like he wanted so badly to lie. “No, Kath she’s...she’s amazing, but she’s here as Tony’s interpreter. And to do an article on this season for the campus paper.”

Mrs. Newman seemed to stop and think for a second. 

“Are you his roommate? Sorry, we haven’t had the chance to meet yet, my husband doesn’t get off work very often so it’s hard for us to come down and visit,” Race fidgeted with the belt loops on his pants. This really wasn’t easy. 

Austin, probably in some feat of adrenaline, grabbed Race’s hand.

“Mom, he’s my boyfriend.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Austin didn’t look anywhere but down at his feet. Race squeezed his hand so tightly, but Austin had a vice grip on his and it didn’t seem like he was planning on letting go any time soon. 

“Excuse me?” Her tone changed. Her ever-present smile was gone. Her aging, kind eyes were hiding complete disappointment and Race was legitimately a bit afraid. “Austin James Newman, you better stop whatever bullshit you’re playing because this,” she spat, grabbing their intertwined hands and yanking them forward. “Is not a joke in this family.”

“Mom, I don’t-”

“No. You’re not gay, Aussie. You’ve never been gay, I-I don’t know why you seem to think it’s...it’s  _ okay _ to joke about things like that!”

Austin had tears in his eyes. Race thought he might break his hand he was squeezing so hard. At least he didn’t let go. 

“Mom,” his voice cracked. “Please, I… I promise I’m not joking.”

She scoffed, pulling out her phone as she quickly dialed a number. They could all tell people were watching. 

“Race, come on, let’s go,” Kath whispered, starting to lead him away by his arm, but he shook his head. She looked between him and Austin before nodding and turning away. He couldn’t blame her for not wanting to be a part of that situation. She’d dealt with coming out to homophobic parents before and once, in her opinion, was more than enough. 

“Bill? Yeah, we found the party just fine, but I need you in here now,” Mrs. Newman scolded into the phone. “Just...I don’t know, give the car to the valet or something, I don’t care, just get in here. Yeah, I got it. Hurry, please.” She hung up the phone, tucking it into her pocket as Austin furiously wiped at his eyes. 

“Austin, I swear to God you better find a way to explain yourself to your father when he gets here because I can’t  _ stand _ to look at...at  _ this _ . I’m taking Jason up to our room. Don’t you  _ dare  _ try to talk to him about your decision,” Helen spat, grabbing his confused little brother’s hand as she stormed out of the ballroom and through the lobby. 

The moment the double doors shut, Austin cracked. A tiny sob broke through his lips and Race started walking towards the exit as well. Austin followed behind him easily. As soon as they were gone, they ducked down a hallway, eventually finding their way into an empty conference room. Race wrapped his arms around the older boy, Austin leaning his head into Race’s chest as his body wracked with sobs.

_ I’ve got you _ , he wanted to say.  _ Everything’s gonna’ be okay. _

He settled instead for a kiss to the boy’s temple as he ran his fingers through his stiff, product-filled hair. 

“I’m sorry,” he whimpered, clenching Race’s shirt in his hands. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

He couldn’t tell him it wasn’t his fault. He couldn’t tell him that, no, it was  _ him  _ that was sorry beyond belief. 

“They hate me,” he whispered, his voice muffled by Race’s shirt. “Oh god, they all hate me. I...I can’t go back in there, everyone...everyone knows…”

Race shook his head, pulling back as he grabbed his phone, fed up with not being able to comfort his boyfriend. He typed out a quick note, selecting it and playing the voice-text. 

“It’s not your fault in the slightest. You don’t deserve this and you sure as hell shouldn’t have to be ashamed to go back in there. Your family is supposed to support you through everything, no matter what. They messed up and you’re so brave for telling them,” the automated voice recited, Race cringing at the awkwardness of the voice as he was able to sneak a watery laugh out of the other boy. 

“You’re such a dork,” Austin mumbled, leaning into Race as he wrapped his arms around his boyfriend’s shoulders. “God, what did I do to deserve you?”

Race leaned his head back, taking Austin’s face in his hands, kissing him softly. 

“Son,” Austin whipped his head around to the doorway. He jumped away from Race like a primal instinct for survival suddenly took over his body. His heart was seconds away from beating out of his chest.

“Dad?” Austin’s voice cracked. The man crossed the room. “Dad, please, I don’t want to-”

God, Race was never much of a baseball fan before he met Austin, but he was sure in that moment that he’d never be able to go to another game again without hearing that  _ sound _ every time Austin pitched. 

He slapped him. Austin went staggering, clutching his cheek. 

Austin picked himself up off the ground, a look in his watery red eyes that Race decided he never wanted to see again. He clenched his fist, breathing heavily as his dad watched his every move. Race held his breath. 

He swung. 

Race squeezed his eyes shut. 

Silence. 

He opened his eyes.

Austin’s fist was mere inches from his dad’s face. His hand was shaking and just as quickly as he had stood up, he sank to his knees again. Race pushed himself across the floor to quickly wrap his arms around his boyfriend, hoping to check his face and make sure he was okay, but the moment he made contact, Bill grabbed his arm and yanked him to his feet. 

He switched his grip as soon as the boy was standing and he gripped Race by a fistful of the collar of his shirt.

“You fucking  _ fag _ ,” he hissed in Race’s face.”You think my son wants to be like you? You’re fucking disgusting, you know tha-”

“Don’t fucking touch him!” Austin screamed, immediately rushing to push his dad off of Race. He shoved himself between the two of them, his left hand frantically fumbling behind him to grab Race’s.

Bill rolled his eyes, rubbing his hand against his stubbly jaw. 

“Son, I’m giving you one last chance,” he started, tucking one hand into his pocket as he used the other one to grip Austin’s shoulder. Race could see the boy visibly tense in front of him. “It’s December 7th, you have plenty of time to get your act together.”

He sighed in that way that parents do when they’re disappointed in their children. Race wanted to vomit just watching Austin eating up everything he said. 

“All a’ this better be gone before Christmas or don’t bother coming home. That’s all I’m gonna’ say.”

And then he left. 

And then they were alone. 

* * *

“I’m sorry,” Austin spoke for the first time since they decided to ditch the rest of the banquet and go back to their hotel room. “Fuck, I’m so sorry, Ant.”

He sat on the counter of the hotel mini bar, Race cleaning up the cut on his cheekbone where Mr. Newman’s wedding ring had broken the skin. He held a few ice cubes wrapped in cocktail napkins to the boy’s cheek and stood up on his tiptoes to kiss his forehead. 

“I know...I know they’re wrong, but I just feel  _ horrible _ for dragging you into it,” he continued, his voice cracking as he sniffled. “They...the way he talked to you...I’m just so fucking sorry Racer.”

Race set down the makeshift ice pack and pulled out his phone. He typed out a quick message, sending it to the other before propping himself up beside Austin on the mini bar. He leaned his head on the taller boy’s shoulder, letting himself relax a little for the first time that night.

**Race:**  there's no way i would've made you go through that alone. i'm right here with you, always.

Austin sniffled, carefully readjusting the small band-aid under his eye.

“Hey Ant?” Austin spoke up, a quiver in his voice soft and tired. Race looked up from burying his nose in Austin’s neck. “I really don’t deserve you, ya’ know that?”

Race sighed heavily, curling up into the boy’s side and wrapping his arms around his torso. He texted him a few more times.

**Race:**  if they try and take me away from you this weekend i'm gonna have to throw hands

**Race:**  sorry in advance if i get you kicked off the team

**Race:**  i gotta do what i gotta do

Austin chuckled as he read it.  "Well, that'd be one hell of a way to explain to my parents how I lost my baseball scholarship. Prob'ly worth it though."

* * *

"Do you think I did the right thing by telling them?”

Race looked up from his book and over at the boy beside him in bed. Austin had originally said he would be going to bed early in order to get enough sleep for the game the next morning, and sure, Race knew why he was  _ really _ so tired, but it wasn’t like he was going to fight him on it. Instead, he just figured he’d let his boyfriend sleep on everything that happened. Apparently, that wasn’t so easy. 

Race smiled sadly, closing his book as he set it on the nightstand. He slid under the covers, wrapping his arms around Austin’s torso and sinking into his chest. 

“I mean, yeah it went pretty much as bad as I could’ve imagined, but I don’t know, maybe it was the right thing to do,” he rambled to himself, leaning his chin on the top of Race’s head. “I don’t think I want them in my life if they don’t even care enough to believe what I’m telling them.”

He sighed deeply, curling into the other boy as well as if he was afraid he might just disappear. 

“What the fuck am I saying,” he continued, his voice cracking as he pulled away to roll onto his back, his arms folded over his chest. “They’re my fucking family.”

Race stayed back for a moment before moving to lay his head on Austin’s chest. The latter’s hand immediately moved to curl into his hair. 

“I think..,” he started, pausing almost as quickly as he started. “I think I need a break.”

Race shivered, tightening his arms around the other’s body. 

There was this long, cold silence as Race shivered and coughed a little, taking occasional sips from a water bottle on the bedside table. Neither wanted to go to sleep first. But neither wanted to say what they both knew had to be said. 

Austin was breaking up with him. Race couldn't get those six words out of his head. 

I think I need a break.

_I think I need a break._

_**I think I need a break.** _

It was over. 

His first boyfriend. 

The first person to ever give him a chance.

A boy who worked so hard to make it work without even being able to speak to each other in any language. 

He made a move to get out of the bed, his chest heaving as the tears started to roll down his cheeks. 

"Wait," Austin spoke up, his voice groggy and tired. Race turned around, barely able to see the boy's face in the dark. Still, there was no missing the unshed tears in his eyes. "Just stay one more night, please."

Race didn't need to be told twice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading! I'm so sorry it took so long to get this chapter up, i've just been really busy with school and practice and my birthday yesterday!!
> 
> but thank you all for being patient! please, if you liked it, leave a comment with some feedback and if you haven't already, kudos too! :)

**Author's Note:**

> thanks so much for reading! i wrote this on my phone (which i hate doing) so hopefully there aren't too many spelling mistakes or typos and such. anyway, comments and kudos are what keep me motivated to keep writing! hmu on tumblr for other postings, updates on this story, and more!
> 
> i've actually written two more chapters of this but as of now i'm planning on posting once a week (maybe twice), but the next chapter will be coming soon!
> 
> xxx, elle


End file.
